Feathers for Falkner
by Mccull
Summary: Falkner finds himself a new gym leader after his honorable father passes away, but it seems there is great chaos in the region of Johto lately. Can he, his beloved birds, and Morty overcome this together? Or will a ghost keep them apart? (Honorshipping and a hearty side shipping of Preciousmetal) (rated M for lemons)
1. Chapter 1

~Falkner~

Sweat dripped down the back of my neck as I approached the one person in this world that scared me most. Respectfully of course, I was terrified, almost to the point of turning away. And while I swept in I found myself twitching in anticipation, my fingers daring to reach out in front of me and touch the cold stone of my father. He was flat and scuffed up, rough around the edges, and yet somehow still elegant. My hands found their way over the tiny pinholes in the rock where water and weather alone had decayed it. I took a deep breath, looking down at my father.

Six feet in the ground lay a man who gave his life to his gym here in Violet City. The same gym that I grew up in, the same gym he died in. This was the same gym I was destined to lead one day, motherless and determined with little more than expectation. My father, though deceased, taught me every day what it meant to be proud of whom you are, and why you did the things you did. He taught me in silence with the help of his faithful birds, by my side and as glorious as ever despite the graying of their feathers and scarred talons. I was taught by the emptiness of knowing one day I would soar with the most magnificent of birds, just like my father did today.

"One day." I nodded to the gravestone just outside of our previous gem of a town. He was planted here because this used to be his training grounds and because this was apparently the place he met my mother so long ago, when the violet trees bloomed every spring. I never met the women that gave me her brilliant sky colored eyes, but from what I heard she was beautiful.

"I wish you could see how things were going…" I laughed sadly to the tomb of the legend gym leader. "I wish you could make fun of the way I was running things around here, or the way I dress sometimes, or—or the horrible paint job I did on the fence out back."

There was no response, just a lonely wind that swished the pale grass across my hands and made me smile. I was always afraid of my father growing up, he had been strict and we often didn't get along, but he had shaped me into the person I was today, which was something to be proud of. I missed him more than anything in the world.

"I'm going to be official today." I talked simply, remembering the way his rough voice would have cut me off. "I'm getting my gym leader license at the Indigo Plataea. It's the monthly meeting between leaders too, which means I will get to meet everyone personally."

Despite my father being a gym leader his whole life he had never introduced me to the other leaders, claiming that they were always changing at that when the time came I would meet them on my own. He said it would mean more to do it that way too, which I realized now was his motive. As a child I thought he just didn't want to take a nuisance like me along for the ride, but now I realized he had been setting me up for this day for as long as I could remember.

"There's Clair… I've talked to her on the phone once before, but she just yelled at me claiming that I was too young to be a leader. And Price, he was actually really genuine and understanding when I met him a month ago, but I felt like he pitied me. And I know, I know." I shook my head as if he was there to scold me. "I'm not supposed to take people's pity; don't worry, I didn't."

The cold stone stared back at me, unblinking.

I sighed. "Right…" What was I doing? Talking to a rock… "I love you Dad… I—I hope your proud of me."

I pushed myself up from my knees and turned to leave the forgotten battlefield as it was. I didn't not look back as I went, but mentally prepared myself for the initiation I would have to face tonight. My father would want me to stand tall and be pompous around the older, more experienced leaders. He would tell me to learn from them and hold my tongue, but show no sign of weakness. I would have said that was irrational and being a shadow of him wasn't going to get me anywhere, however later I knew I would take his advice gratefully. Indeed I was a shadow of my father, whether I liked it or not.

Tonight was the night that I became my father's prodigy. Second next to my father himself; and I was nervous as all hell. Tomorrow I would open the doors of the fixed up gym that he once loved so much, and I would accept challengers from all over the world. Hopefully I would defeat them easily, but there was no guarantee I could keep all those badges to myself.

With a strangled whistle I looked to the sky, awaiting my best friend to find me so I could ruffle his feathers. The docile Pidgey—appropriately named Zephyr- was never too far away, and always eager to please in situations like this. He would be accompanying me to the meeting tonight, since I could bring a single pokemon with me, and—like myself—needed a good scrub down first.

I whistled again, leaving the thoughts about my father behind at his grave and heading home towards the Gym. Moments later the bird found me and landed on my shoulder, looking as though he had gotten into some honey of some sort. His wings were sticky and his face was plastered with pollen.

"What did you do Buddy?" I pulled my hand up for him to step onto it before making him face me. He merely butted my chin with his tiny head in response, apologizing before I even scolded him. I smiled lightly as he chirped.

"We've got a lot to do today; you can't go getting into trouble." I eyed him carefully, teasing. "Today I become an official Gym leader… Zephyr this is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me."

He pecked me in the cheek and then turned his head away stiffly.

"A little support would be nice." I muttered. If only my father was here… he had a way with making even the most absent minded birds listen to him. I rolled my eyes as the tiny Pidgey launched himself from my hand and over the roof of the gym. I knew he was heading for the sanctuary in the back, where his mother—my father's Pidgeot—would coddle him and pluck out lose feathers where they did not belong.

I pushed open the tall glass door of my father's gym with ease, wiping my feet before entering as he always told me to, and looking around to face the high beams above me. Ladders upon ladder lead up to my particular room in this place—which was renovated from the tobacco smelling cave that my father once inhabited. It was my own sanctuary up there now.

I approached the first ladder easily, set to climb while wishing I had wings like those of a Staraptor. I had to mentally correct myself as I went. This was no longer my father's gym with my single room in it. No. This was my gym. Every single nook and cranny of it belonged to me now.

And as of tonight I would be its leader.


	2. Chapter 2

~Falkner~

The indigo Plateau.

It was every bit as stunning in person as it was in the magazines and newspapers. Its huge brick walls standing tall, reaching up to the sky and sending a massive shadow in my direction. I blinked, swallowed hard, and had to remind myself that this wasn't going to harm me. I was no trainer that wanted to challenge the Elite Four, I was a gym leader—or soon to be one. Even so, this kind of skittish fear fluttered in my heart like a pidgey trying to fly for the first time.

I stood dumbfounded by its size, too awestruck to enter the structure for the moment, and clutching Zephyr to my chest tightly. The little bird chittered angrily at being confined, but I refused to let him move. If he flew off now he could get lost, and though I didn't doubt a Pidgey's homing skills, I didn't want to miss him for a week until he got back to Violet City.

"Zephyr." I scolded gently, making the bird look up at me in confusion. As if it didn't know what it did wrong. I was nervous enough as it was, I didn't need him to make this worse.

With a deep breath I reached forward, stepping to the huge glass door and reaching out to it. I set my hand on the massive metal handle and paused. What had this moment felt like the first time my father reached out to grab it? Was he nervous?

Nearly a year ago the Violet City gym leader passed away, leaving the eight leaders of Johto shorthanded. The town had grown quiet after his passing, and like myself the gym ran down. I was a tender seventeen years old at the time, and despite my misery, I had indeed accepted the fact that I had big shoes to fill. I was the son of the most pronounced bird trainer in the world, and following in his footsteps I knew I would one day face this task.

I turned eighteen two weeks ago, and it was perhaps the most horrible day of my life. From that moment on everything had seemed too real, and I had spent the time dwelling on the fact that I was suddenly going to be someone. Not just someone without a father… but actually someone a father could be proud of.

I shivered at the thought, realizing that I had stalled for too long, holding the handle of the Indigo Plateau and biting my lower lip in hesitation.

"Hello there!" A sudden, small and nervous voice interrupted me. I jumped, but did not turn around to see who approached. Instead I was looking into the glass a my own reflection—the spitting image of my mother with navy hair like my father—and noticing just how bright eyed I was with uneasiness.

Strolling up behind me was a very petite girl in a silvery dress. She wore a white cardigan to break the cool autumn wind, and was tied up with a red bow that sat on the front of her breasts like a present. But that wasn't what surprised me most about her. What surprised me most was the face that she was absolutely child-like; certainly no older than me—if not two or three years younger. Her nutmeg eyes and long nutmeg hair both shone in the late afternoon sun.

"I'm Jasmine." She announced, which made me realize that I was still looking at her through the reflection of the glass door. I turned in with a whirl, surprised with myself for being so out of place.

"You must be the new trainer right?" She smiled very softly.

"Falkner." I nodded stupidly, shifting my right hand from holding Zephyr to my left, so that I could shake with her.

She set her tiny palm against mine hesitantly, though trying not to laugh for some odd reason. And I have to admit, I probably shook too hard, but my father always told me a firm handshake was the key to good first impressions. She pulled away as quickly as she could without seeming rude, and then wiped her fingertips on the front of her dress. I smiled sheepishly.

"You're a gym leader right?" I asked after a moment of awkward. Of course I recognized the names of all the current gym leaders in Johto, but I had never gotten the chance to meet even half of them. Plus, Jasmine looked way too soft to be a trainer.

"That's right." She nodded. "From Olivine."

I blinked strangely, watching the childish way she lifted herself onto her toes as if she was far too eager.

"How old are you?" I wondered cautiously, pulling my hand over to the metal handle once again, this time intending on opening it.

"Don't you know better than to ask a ladies age?" Her nutmeg eyes narrowed suddenly, reflecting a burst of anger. I flinched.

"I—I'm sorry I didn't—

"I'm just teasing." She lightened instantly, shaking her head at me. "I can tell you're nervous. I was too the first time I came here."

I opened the door for her and watched as she waltzed in fluidly, waiting on the other side for me. I stepped through as proudly as I could, but was struck with the magnificence of such an interior. Chandeliers everywhere, gold statues and pictures of all the great gym leaders and elite four members lining the walls. I wondered vaguely if my father would be up there somewhere…

"I'm nineteen by the way." Jasmine said as I stared in awe.

"You don't seem like it." I commented mildly, though not taking my eyes from the brilliant décor. Jasmine was a year older than me, but about a foot shorter. And I was not all that tall—just an average five foot nine.

"Yeah… well, what does that matter?"

She got me there. Age wasn't everything when it came to being a gym leader; I knew that better than anyone else.

"You train flying types right?" Jasmine said after a second. It was clear that she wasn't the kind of girl that liked awkward silences, even while we walked to our destination—wherever that may be. She was leading me now, down a huge hall with doors leading out to gardens and greenhouses.

"Right." I nodded, remembering that it was safe to let Zephyr out of my grasp now. The tiny bird was not amused as I unfolded my hand from over his back, and I didn't miss the way he tried to peck me while climbing up to sit on my shoulder.

"What do you train?" I asked in return—a friendly question.

"Steel of course!" her eyes blazed with passion at the word.

"Oh." Was all I said though. It was hard to believe such a tiny girl like her would like such bulky and heavy pokemon. They were cold and lifeless most of the time, and she was obviously neither of those things.

"Got a problem with steel types?" She demanded.

"Huh? No! I ju—

"What are they not soft enough for you?"

"No! I—I mean. That's not what I—

She cut me off again, though this time by laughing. "I'm just teasing you, Falkner."

I snorted under my breath. How was I supposed to be serious and confident when this girl just wanted to fool around?

"You know…" Jasmine mused. "I'm really new here too. I've only been leading the Olivine gym since spring. So I still get nervous around the other leaders too. Especially the older ones… Except Chuck." She laughed softly. "He visits me a lot from Cianwood. He is good friends with my father, who runs the Safari Zone, so I think he thinks he is my Uncle. But he's not."

I looked at the petite girl, not sure whether to humor her or just let her keep rambling. If she was nervous as she claimed to be, then how could see just keep going? Whenever I felt even the slightest bit uneasy I would freeze up and keep to myself.

"Have you met any of the other leaders?" She asked suddenly, pausing by a door that looked no different than any of the others, except for the fact that it had a sign on it that read "leaders meeting."

"Just Pryce." I told her. "He was at my father's funeral."

"Oh really? He doesn't seem to talk much around here…" Jasmine said, obviously dropping the conversation to open the door. I was thankful for her sudden silence, but it made my nerves grow.

What would all the other leaders think of me? I knew Clair already hated me for being so young, she called me on my eighteenth birthday to harass me about it. However, I simply told her that we all couldn't be as old as she was, which was probably a bad idea. I hadn't meant it in a mean way of course, but she sure took it that way. Suddenly I felt very unstable.

Jasmine swung the door open swiftly, and in one sweeping movement held it open for me. Her dress billowed out behind her, which seemed to disgruntle me. Normally I would have taken the door for her and allowed her—the lady—to go first, but her nutmeg eyes made me think otherwise. Was she judging me too? She certainly was trying to make eye contact a lot.

"Thanks." I barely whispered as we entered a huge—where did they come up with this stuff?—HUGE open room.

When you think of the word "meeting" you probably think something along the lines of long tables and dozens of rolling chairs with people in suits to sit in them. I thought about harsh glares and debating and strict rules that seemed not to apply here.

The room—if it could even be called a room—was massive. An open space so large it could fit two or three Wailord and then some. Not to mention the ceilings were so high that I felt absolutely small in comparison. The floor was padded with black and blue gym mats arranged in an orderly fashion, all heading towards the center stage that was—to my amazement—a small battlefield. Two trainers stood together down there, their voices too small to hear from where I was, but obviously talking together.

To the far side of this massive fitness center was jungle gym after jungle gym that reminded me of the parks my father never let my play at as a small child. There were bars to support even the heaviest of people and some pokemon alike, and tunnels that were wide enough for a relatively small onix to slither through.

"Crazy huh?" Jasmine distracted my from viewing the area any further. I hadn't the time to stare down the obvious bungee cords from the ceiling, or the large targets with holes through them, or the—trampolines?

"What is this?" I asked. There was no way this was the gym leaders meeting area. "This looks like a gym for gymnastics, not a pokemon gym."

Jasmine laughed. "This is just a fitness center for us if we want it. The gym leaders like to use it as their meeting room because they can release their pokemon in here too. Plus we all get together and have battles."

"But… then how do we have meetings?" I mused.

"We all just sit down on the mats together." Jasmine sighed peacefully, as if she was remembering fondly. "No one ever has too much to say anyways."

I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. You mean to tell me that my father—a man of seriousness and solitude—gathered here for… fun? I felt so out of place! How does a man like him fit in with his crowd? How could I fit in when all I knew how to be was a man like him?

"Well don't just stand there." Jasmine nudged me with her elbow. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Chuck and Bugsy."

Before I could suggest otherwise she bounced away lively, leaving me to follow regardless of my hesitation. I wasn't ready for this! I was too serious! I would come off as an asshole!

As I turned to follow her anyways, my shoulder slumped uncomfortably for Zephyr and without warning the little bird took off, flapping his wings harshly and zipping past some other unexpected person.

"Zephyr!" I hissed as a girl with pasty pink hair ducked and squealed in surprise.

"Who left the door open again!?" She yelled through the gym to the two leaders out on the battlefield. Jasmine turned to look also, seeing as though I was having more problems than to just follow her like she suggested. I flushed with embarrassment as the eyes all seemed to turn to me.

"Sorry." I walked up to the pink haired gym leader, who looked familiar to me from magazine covers and other public things. I recognized her almost immediately to be the normal leader of Goldenrod City. Her name was Whitney.

"My bird got away from me." I explained, looking up in time to see Zephyr fluttering back down to sit not on my shoulder, but this time on my head. With a grunt I brushed him off and jabbed my hand out to him so he could grasp me with his small talons. He chirped angrily for being startled in the first place.

Whitney snorted with laughter, her pink hair shaking enthusiastically. "You must be the new boy huh?"

"His name is Falkner." Jasmine walked up behind me, her voice gentle—maybe even too gentle.

"Nice one there!" A shrill male of a voice sounded behind us all, not allowing me a moment to speak for myself. The eyes averted to perhaps the most strange looking adult I had ever seen. He was short, thick in the shoulders but thin in the arms and legs, and had a head too large for his body. Or maybe it was his overly-thick wild boy hair that got the most attention. I couldn't be sure, but I knew one thing, I wanted to laugh at the short shorts he was wearing.

"Lettin' a pidgey get away from you. You're a winner dude!" he laughed sarcastically, his voice feminine like his face.

"Bah!" A mountain of a man slapped the short boy on the back, chortling with laughter at me. "Look at you, kid! You've got a baby face just like your father."

"My—my father?" I huffed. My father never had a baby face. From what I could remember his face was always rough from stubble, and his personality held no secrets to being childish either.

"Ahh, a good man." The rough guy sucked up some mucus from his sinus and swallowed easily. I tried not to look disgusted, I really did, but it was inevitable.

"Falkner…" Jasmine stepped forward, her face red with her own embarrassment. Apparently her fake Uncle was a little crazy. "This is Chuck" she went on, pointing to the people surrounding me. "And Bugsy, a—

"Whitney!" The pink one perked up.

I didn't know who to focus on, let alone who not to. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something, looking at me as if I was going to do a trick of some sort. The awkwardness set in for a long second before a fourth distraction came along. I thought for a second I was going to be relieved, only to find that looking up was the last person I wished to be here. The group seemed unfazed, but I felt absolutely molecular. Zephyr shrank within his feathers at such a sight, feeding off of my emotions.

Strutting forward with hips that swayed and breasts that bounced was Clair, followed by a slithering scaly creature with a huge fist sized bead on its neck. Its black eyes bore down on us, much like Clair's dark blue ones did. Like trainer like pokemon, I thought silently, trying not to shutter.

"Clair." Chuck hooted. "What an outfit you've got there!"

I would have said the same thing, had I been a little less solemn in my greetings. She wore a very tight blue jumpsuit, cut off barely past her waist and hiking up in all the wrong—or right—places. Her neck was long and choked by the same kind of bead her Dragonair wore. A thick cape billowed out behind her.

"I could say the same thing about you." Clair shot back, and despite the old perverts ogling, she didn't seem fazed. Chuck himself wore no shirt, but I had been trying to avoid that detail since I first saw him. I just assumed this gave Clair the right to be nasty.

"Hi Clair." Jasmine said in a small voice, standing beside me looking absolutely childlike in comparison to such a woman. I wouldn't lie, Jasmine was cute in her own way, but Clair, no matter how mean she was, had a sort of sex appeal dripping from her. I had to look away, cursing my male instincts.

"What do we have here?" Clair merely nodded to Jasmine, her attention focused on me though. I blinked once before forcing my eyes up and piercing them through the dragon trainers as best I could. My father always told me eye contact was personal, and depending on the person they could quite easily take it as a threat or a promise. I hoped Clair wasn't one of those people, but hell, who was I kidding? She curled her lip at me as she strode forward.

"The new gym leader…" She mused. "Falkner, Hun you've got balls, I must say. But do you have strength? I wonder…"

"I'm plenty strong enough to be a gym leader." I commented.

An eerie smirk spread across her face. "Alright baby doll, let's test you then. As your formal initiation I want to battle you."

Jasmine gasped. "That's not fair! Clair, no one uses battle as initiation. No one battled me when I joined."

"No one had to test you." The woman looked down upon the girl. "You actually had potential with all those strong steel pokemon. But I promise, had you been training mere flying types you would have been tested as well."

"Clair tested me when I joined." Bugsy, who had grown quiet, decided it was his turn to speak up. "You said my bugs weren't good enough to be here, but I was going to beat you Clair… until the champion showed up."

"Enough about who I have or haven't tested! I am the strongest gym leader, I can challenge whoever I want."

"Hey kid, I'm sure you are eager and all bu—

"Chuck! Enough." Clair scolded the obviously older man from speaking any further. "Do you accept my challenge?"

I could hardly believe this was happening. What kind of meeting was this? Where were the long tables and rolling chairs and precious information? I expected debating, but certainly not fighting. Clair was in it to win it though, she wanted my head on platter for Arceus sake, I could see it in her eyes. And boy did I wish I could battle her, just to prove my beloved birds and I were plenty strong. However though, I couldn't battle because I had not brought any of my own pokemon besides Zephyr, who hated fighting almost as much as he hated getting a bath.

"I refuse." I shook my head calmly as I could. What would my father have done in this situation? "Clair I can't accept your battle because I haven't any pokemon to fight with."

Her eyes narrowed. "You expect to be a gym leader and you go places without pokemon to fight with?"

"There was no point to bring any more pokemon than necessary." I defended. "I wasn't exactly expecting this."

"I didn't bring any pokemon either Clair." Jasmine agreed, though I got the feeling he was lying for me. "Why should we when this is a peaceful meeting?"

Clair snorted, flipping her long pasty blue hair around and rolling her eyes. "Children." She retorted scornfully, and then to my amazement turned to leave. Her dragonair followed faithfully close, reaching out with its head to touch its masters hand. "I expect a battle next time Falkner!" She yelled over her shoulder before vanishing beyond the modest door.

The eyes in the room turned on me, staring in confusion at what I had done to piss Clair off. Chuck looked guilty and worried for me, Whitney was simply pouting with annoyance, Bugsy was shaking his head, and Jasmine seemed to want to cheer me up. Her small hand came up to touch me on the shoulder, to signal that it would be ok. Zephyr opened his beak and made a soft huff of a noise—a hiss—in anger for her touching his perch, but I ignored him anyways.

"Don't let her get to you." Whitney spoke only after Clair was long gone.

"She isn't all bad." Chuck scoffed. "Just gotta get to know her."

"I'll say. She really is a strong trainer… you lucked out on that battle Falkner, I lied about almost beating her. No one beats Clair but Lance himself."

My head spun from all the voices and names, and I cursed my father for not having introduced me to these people before he passed away. How much easier this all could have been had I simply known what to expect! I took a deep breath, unable to speak in my defense and wishing that there was something someone could say that would actually make me feel better. Perhaps if my father was here he would have said something useful. He would have told me to suck it up and deal with it, call Clair's bluff and battle her, at least then she would know I meant business.

"Come on Falkner." Jasmine nudged me gently. "I'll finish showing you around."

How much more was there to see? I couldn't deny the fact that I really just wanted to go home and sulk, but a voice in my head said otherwise. I was eighteen now, an adult that had to open a gym in the morning and accept challengers around the world to battle with. Maybe Clair was right when she thought I was stupid not to have brought fighting pokemon with me? I was a gym leader now…

"I'll come with you!" Whitney followed behind us and Jasmine lead the way across the padded ground. I wasn't sure where she was taking me, or why the pink haired one had to come along, all I knew was that I wish this all wasn't happening so fast.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

What an unfortunate coincidence for such a child. Clair and her credence upon the rest of the gym leaders, it was daunting of course, but why anyone actually feared her was beyond me. She was just another one of us, and in all reality if it weren't for us she would be nothing. One gym leader was not a threat without the others to back them up, whatever the situation we had to be there for one another, and it was Clair's sort of ignorance that would break that bond.

Of course when I spoke of this bond I excluded myself from it though, so her breaking it wouldn't affect me personally. I was quite amused in fact, feeling a little left out (which was utterly normal for me) but amused none the less. The other gym leaders often forgot I was even one of them, and so when there were occasions like this, people like Falkner would be getting ripped off on the full experience of meeting everyone.

I was nothing special. But people feared me. For whatever reason their mundane eyes couldn't read the true description on such a person. They thought I was nothing but a freak with the uncanny ability to raise ghost pokemon, as if that was the reason I was so different than them. Just because one can train a ghost doesn't mean one is a ghost as well, and they sure seemed to think I was a ghost.

Jasmine was a sweet girl, I could see that in the way she jumped on the chance to show Falkner around and introduce him to everyone, but this didn't dismiss the fact that she was also trying to become higher up herself. She was the newest leader as of spring, and now that there was someone lower on the "food chain" she was determined to be someone of higher ranks. I didn't mind the girl of course, and she had never given so much as a passing glance to me, so we got along.

Whitney on the other hand was neither sweet nor determined. She was ditzy, probably a blond before hair dye was invented, and eager to please any boy of Falkner's status. She followed him like he followed Jasmine, carefully with bright eyes. Only Falkner did it out of curiosity, Whitney did it out of the fact that she could get a glimpse of that dark jean tightened ass of his. I smirked at the thought; little girls could never own an ass like that.

If you could consider Falkner a man, he was a very delectable one, however looking at him from a teenager's perspective I knew people would consider him handsome, alluring in an adult kind of way. He had mighty shoes to fill and wore them well despite his nervousness. I enjoyed that from a distance, walking the shadows with my ghost pokemon beside me while Falkner got the roundabouts of this place down. It was a mediocre tour if I had to say so myself, but he carefully remembered all Jasmine or Whitney said to him in the time being.

Leader Pryce had come to the meeting late, announcing that the champion was going to be here soon to give Falkner his official badges, which put a bad taste in my mouth. If Lance was coming then I was required to bow down and kiss ass while I really just wanted to hide in the corner and stay away from the new leader, watching from a safe distance at how he moved and talked with quiet boldness.

I did not socialize well with the rest of them (or very rarely anyone that wasn't dead), and I assumed Falkner would be no exception. He hadn't seemed to notice yet that there was only seven gym leaders hanging around this place; and if anyone one else did they didn't point out my absense. These meetings were pointless to me, so I hadn't been to one since Jasmine was made a leader, therefore everyone could assume I had just stayed home again tonight, stirring my wizards brew and taking to ghosts like the freak I was.

I was the Ecruteak gym leader; Morty Matsuba, and I was not one of them. I was different, a tarnished version of the living leaders that they were. They called me crazy for the ability I had to see ghosts, to talk and communicate to the dead around us. They couldn't appreciate such a power like I did, some of them didn't even believe in it; so I had secluded myself from them over time, rather than stooping to their level and changing who I was.

I was not always like this anyways, and not with everyone of course. At one point I was just as normal as each and every trainer that ever lived. I loved things like the beauty in flickering fire, the stars at night, and the sound of thunder. Those things were relatively normal for people to like, I assumed, but it seemed that differences were more important than what we had in common. Not to mention it was hard to make friends when you had eternal pokemon that insisted otherwise.

My faithful companions Gengar, Haunter, and a pair of twin Gastly insisted on guarding me with their undying souls. They themselves had no friends beside me, so of course it was partial jealousy that made them so protective, but nevertheless it didn't help me social issues. I often tried to leave my ghosts home when I went out places, hoping they wouldn't escape from their pokeballs and find me—but they always did.

Ghost pokemon do not die, if you hadn't already guessed, they simply re-manifest from energy sources after being defeated. You can't physically touch some of them, so trying to keep them locked up in a pokeball was very difficult. Unless your ghost type is soiled with types of other pokemon, such as Froslass, or Sableye that cannot leave the solid form of their bodies for a more gas-like appearance. It was much easier to contain them, but part of me felt bad for such pokemon.

I felt bad for myself too. How many times had I wished that I could simply disappear from the scene like a ghost could? I craved the ability to hide without harm, to be secluded so that no one could bother or judge me. I craved it like a bird craved flying, especially at times like this, when sir kiss-my-ass-or-feel-my-wrath (Lance) decided that he wanted full attention.

Groaning internally I stepped away from the darkest area beneath an overhang. Above me was a tennis court and a weight room for those that lived here in this mansion of a home. Being the Elite Four and the champion's lifestyle, I knew that it was expected to be elaborate, but I didn't understand why we had to have meetings in such a wide, unprofessional space.

"How nice of you to join us, Morty." The caped individual said snarkily. "I suppose meeting our newest gym leader means nothing to you?"

Nope. Not a thing.

"Take a seat please." Lance ordered, determined to be the one and only person standing. He was so cocky with his ways—almost as bad as Clair—but of course that aside, he was incredibly attractive. Bulbous biceps and luscious red hair, who wouldn't like Lance? I glared.

It drove me mad to have to sit on the floor in this place, but I was not about to embarrass myself by getting into an argument that I could not win. With a snort I sat outside the circle that had formed around his feet. It all felt more like kindergarden than a professional meeting. Were we waiting to hear a story and get tucked into bed? Or were we hear to initiate a gym leader? I poked at the padded mats angrily. There were dozens of rooms in this damn place, why the hell were we stuck in the gym?

"Today we welcome a new member to our system." Lance began, folding his arms behind his back and pacing. "The loss we suffered after his father passed left us shorthanded and behind. We struggled for nearly a year, unable to find a replacement for the gym in Violet City. It's property, the birds, the gym itself was passed down to the one and only son." Lance turned and faced the navy haired boy with a piercing gave. "Falkner."

A small clap rippled through the gym leaders, having started with Whitney and ending with Clair, I didn't clap at all.

"Falkner you have been awaiting the day you turned eighteen for a long time am I right?" Lance gestured the kid to stand next to him.

"Yes." Falkner lied through his teeth. He most certainly was not waiting for that day, he was dreading it. The little bird on his shoulder twitched uncomfortably, its stubby beak opened as if it wanted to bite Lance when he got to close. I would love it if he did.

"Today Falkner, you become one of us. Take these badges." He held out a small chest in which I knew contained superb badges that would be given to lucky trainers who beat him in battle. I had a chest of my own—tucked safely under my bed—that contained various additions of the fog badge from over the last three years of me being a gym leader.

Falkner blinked at the wooden chest thankfully, and Jasmine from in the small crowd shot him a thumbs up. He didn't notice it however, which amused me. I smirked.

"Thank you." The navy haired boy bit his lower lip, unsure of himself but wanting to look strong. He was very young to be a gym leader, but I knew that within the short two years between eighteen and twenty—which was when I became leader—I hadn't grown all that much. If he had the sensibility to do the job now, then age was just a number.

Lance nodded to the kid, a nod that said they still had things to discuss, but for a later day. I was happy when the crowd broke into a soft chattering, and Lance allowed everyone to get up and walk around. Bugsy helped Pryce, since the old man's knees were becoming weak and suffering from the effects of arthritis. I shook my head at the thought; didn't he realize that it wasn't just a nuisance to make us sit on the floor, but actually painful?

Without a word I turned, pulling my scarf up higher on my neck and leaving to go home. It was a long journey back to Ecruteak and I wasn't about to waste precious night hours when I could be training or sleeping. These meetings lasted far too long without all the unnecessary battling afterwards anyways. I could hear Clair demanded who would take her on first as I went, rolling my eyes and knowing that I could give her a run for her money if the pokemon league rules didn't come into play.

"Hey! Morty, lookout!"

I turned instantly at the sound of my name, expecting something to be hurled at my head in mockery. Jasmine had yelped in shock, and Falkner was coming over quickly, much to my surprise, his wide blue eyes looking shocked.

Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, that tiny unruly pidgey decided to make a nest out of my hair. I flinched, but was not afraid of such a pitiful bird. It landed, gripping pieces of my dirty blond hair and ducking low as its master was fuming with annoyance.

"Zephyr!" Falkner snarled under his breath.

I could only stand there and hope that no one important was watching. Clair would never let me live it down if she saw that a pidgey had landed on my head and I hadn't wacked it off instantly. Believe me I wanted to, but it was the precious pet of our new gym leader and I wasn't fond of making enemies. Besides, Falkner… he was…

"I—I'm sorry." The young bird trainer—who I could see clearly now that he was directly in front of me—reached up, but paused. He was unsure of himself, and I would be too in his position.

I tilted my head down slightly and waited as calmly as I could until he had secured the pokemon in his long hands and held it against his chest.

"I'm sorry. He is acting strange…I don't know why…" Falkner shook his head, looking up at me with eyes opposite of the previous bird trainer that ran Violet City's gym.

His father was a great man, probably one of the gym leaders I respected most in the short time that I knew him, and it was strange to be seeing his son for the first time and knowing that those were not his eyes. Falkner must have gotten the wide, clear blue pools from his mother. I blinked back at him.

"That's ok." No one had seen besides Jasmine, who was still gaping in shock.

"You're the… ghost trainer right?" Falkner asked hesitantly, though it was not because of the fact that I trained ghosts, it was because he wasn't quite sure. I could see him mentally counting in his head, adding up the others and knowing I was the one he left out.

"Right." I nodded once, not sure if it would be rude to turn away now or not.

"My father liked you."

I had been about to turn, adjusting the headband across my forehead because his little bird had tilted it out of place, when he caught me off guard.

"What?" I asked in surprise.

"He used to talk about you every once in a while. He said that you were a good trainer… you know, calm and collected and stuff."

I smiled, surprised with myself for being so quick to judge him. Falkner was no eighteen year old at heart, he had something else going for him that called for a much older pretense. I enjoyed that actually, seeing the years of life experience in his eyes. His father used to look the same way, only on him it fit because of his impressive age.

"I wish I could thank him." I murmured, knowing that perhaps one day—given I found the ghost of such a trainer—I could. Falkner shifted.

"He wouldn't accept that anyways."

"And why not?"

"He never liked taking thank yous. He would have said that it made him feel weak."

How preposterous. Being thanked was not nearly the same thing as being weak. No one ever thanked anyone because they were weak.

"That's very strange." I commented. "But he's not here so… I thank him."

"Morty…" Jasmine finally stepped forward, seeing my comment as something personal. She didn't want to talk about Falkner's dead father in case it bothered him, but he himself seemed perfectly ok with the topic. I wondered why she cared so much in the first place. She had only just met the trainer today… right?

I huffed, turning then and adjusting my scarf as I left the massive meeting gym and going into the hallway that was much more suitable for such a place. Everything was dully lit with gloomy chandelier lights, and warm with the lower ceilings and comforting colors of red and browns. I sighed, just another average meeting day with no one to appreciate you or see just how good things could be. Even Falkner would soon see to their ways.

I glowered. No one wanted to accept the fact that I was different because I could speak to the dead and train ghosts, but I most certainly had to accept them. How unfair and hypocrite they could be. Just because I was the last one to show up and the first one to leave, they had something against me.

"Call me if you ever want to talk ok?" a muted voice came from down the hallway behind me. It was Jasmine again.

"No problem." Falkner answered but gave no indication of if he would call or not. I had to glance over my shoulder at that. I had to see the hidden hurt in Jasmine's eyes while she would feel so rejected by his boyish manner. Falkner wouldn't have meant anything in saying that, and maybe he did or maybe he didn't intend on calling her, but she could assume otherwise because of that reaction alone.

He turned quickly and started walking back down the corridor, making me hide my face. I stared at the floor as I walked, slowly enough to hear his bird chirping tiredly to him against his chest. And I didn't want to admit it, but I was waiting to see if he was going to catch up to me or not. Talk about his father may have made him partial to me, but there was no real reason for him to bring it up again.

He whispered soft words to his unruly bird; things I couldn't understand but knew were comforting. I didn't want to look and see the raw passionate blue of his eyes, but I knew it was there. Falkner—like his father—thought more of his birds than just pokemon. The sound of his voice was of obvious worship.

"Sorry again for that." Falkner murmured to me as his bird rolled to its back in his arms and curled its little talons up.

I blinked down at the navy haired boy, smirking ever so slightly. I came here thinking that I was going to be in a terrible mood, only to find that things weren't so terrible anyways. Falkner's large blue eyes glittered in low light while he stroked the bird across the stomach.

"It's no problem." I nodded simply. Mischievous pokemon didn't bother me in the slightest; I actually found them quite enjoyable. The Pidgey peeked up at me with its beady black eyes as if it could tell.

"That's a relief." Falkner nodded, happy to know I wasn't upset. I could tell he thought everyone was judging him around here—and of course they all were in their own way—but I certainly found nothing wrong with the kid. "Morty, right?" he turned to me, shifting so that the Pidgey was held in his left arm.

"Right." I nodded. Pushing my right hand out to him so that he could shake it tightly.

"I'm sure I will see you around more often." Falkner murmured as we approached the main entrance to the Indigo Plateau.

"Same to you…" I said as he turned away from me and headed into the night. He reached for a pokeball at his waist as he went, leaving me to stand alone quietly watching after him.

I didn't plan on coming to these meetings unless I had to, and after tonight I figured there wouldn't be a reason to for a while anyways. So I really saw no way of seeing him around at all. He lived in Violet City, while I was stationed in Ecruteak, and though those two weren't far away, I couldn't imagine him hanging around my ghostly town anyways.

However… I could come back to these meetings… I guess.

Now that I thought about it actually, he was the only person that ever seemed to mention seeing me a second time. I couldn't remember a time when Bugsy, Pryce, or even sweet little Jasmine ever said something like that, and they were the only ones that even tolerated me as far as gym leaders go.

But now there was Falkner, who acted so much like his father in his handshakes and body movements, that I actually felt like there was something to be explored there. I couldn't guarantee that I would come to future meetings, but if I did, at least I knew there was a reason.

I watched Falkner fly away on a very familiar Pidgeot—his father's—and folded my arms over my chest, contemplating. No one could have made me believe that the new bird trainer would be accepting of me, but of course he didn't exactly know me yet… so there was still time for him to realize how weird I was… but something told me otherwise.

Falkner did not seem to be the type of person to judge others. He seemed honest and genuine, and that was enough for me. We could be friends, I decided with a snort.

Unless I decide to change my mind before the next meeting


	4. Chapter 4

~Falkner~

Despite being embarrassed out of my mind at the pokemon gym leaders meeting, I was actually quite happy with the way things worked out. Zephyr had insisted on ruining my life, but no one seemed too horribly fazed by it. Of course the little bird got a stern talking to anyways, while he pecked at seeds too big for his little beak to crack open. I had to take the snack away before I got his attention, and even after that I wasn't sure he listened. Everything I said seemed to go in one ear and out the other, so it was barely even worth it anyways.

Later the next day Zephyr had come to be with a half- eaten leaf of apology, and despite the mud plastered to his feathers and the honey all over his face, I accepted with a roll of my eyes. What can I say? I've got a soft spot for that bird.

It had been two weeks since I opened the doors of this gym for the first time, and over twenty battles later I was only missing two of my new badges, which I had reluctantly given to raven hair boy with striking gold eyes, and a lanky redhead with pale silver eyes. Both of them had Johto starters, and both of those starters had evolved during battle, which was the only reason I believed they won at all.  
This had pushed my ego down a notch, and with a sinking depression I had called Jasmine to tell her about the battle.

"Don't let it get to you!" she had cheered peacefully, claiming that nearly every water or fire trainer than came to her would win. She wasn't daunted by loss at all, and it seemed she had more to worry about anyways, with talk of the lighthouse in Olivine flickering every now and again without reason; she couldn't afford to let losing bother her.

We talked for a little while, about things here and there and what was going on in our towns at the moment. Apparently there was a Fall festival thing they would hold on the docs down in Olivine, and she was determined to get me to come. She said it would be fun and I needed to get away from the gym for a little while, which only made me want to stay more.

I hated leaving my birds, and the fact of the matter was I just had way too many of them in the sanctuary to put in pokeballs. I didn't fancy keeping birds in cages, which inncluded pokeballs, and so leaving for long periods of time required a lot of effort on my part. Those birds were like family. Would you drop everything, put your family in a cage, and then take off for a day? If I had a family, I knew I wouldn't…

Jasmine had a point though, and she told me that he birds could probably use a break from a perfectionist like me as well (which made me laugh), and in the end I left her with a maybe, only to call back two days later saying that I would indeed go. Some blue haired little girl had beaten me in battle with a terribly strong ice type, and I was ready to shut the gym down for the day.

Today was that day of the festival in Olivine, and it was also a week before the next gym leader meeting, which was approaching too quickly. I got the feeling that all the gym leaders secretly distasted the meetings, but found them to be necessary under certain circumstances. I guess I understood, but thinking about it wasn't helping. At least this time it wouldn't be so awkward…

"Mama Bird!" I called, heading out the backdoor of the gym to the glorious sanctuary that overlooked a pond lined with trees. They were turning orange as Autumn had fallen upon them quickly, and I found I quite liked the way it matched the Pidgeot's chestnut tinted feathers.

Mama Bird was my father's beloved bird, and though he was not the one to name it, I felt as if she had always lived up to the name. My own mother died giving bird to me, and so the closest thing I had to a mom growing up was this Pidgeot. My father hated that I called her Mama at first, saying that it was no name for such a strong creature of his, but in the end I knew he warmed up to the idea.

It always made me sad to know that my father past before Mama Bird actually became a real mother. Not only plucking at my hair anymore, trying to clean me of dirt and grime, but her own kinds too. She had a real son of her own now (which was my unruly little Zephyr) and I knew that she was proud.

My father would have been proud too, because I had battled a temperamental male Pidgeot for months trying to get him to warm up to the idea of mating with Mama Bird. He wasn't fond of her—mostly because she wanted to be in control all the time—but had succumbed to her beauty eventually. I remembered the day I found Zepyhr's egg, it was the same day that I released the male Pidgeot into the wild so that he could escape the threat of fatherhood.

Mama Bird was the best mother I had, and the best mother that Zephyr had. In her old age she was tender and gray around the beak, but still had a brightness to her eyes. I loved that bird terribly, and feared every day for her. She was losing more and more feathers lately, looking fatigued though she never EVER had to fight a battle, and often finding it hard to take flight from off of a flat surface.

I called to the bird again, whistling and yelling her name into the bird's sanctuary. This attracted a lot of attention from a very curious and playful Swellow (named Jake) that had been donated to me not long after my father passed away. He was handsome and great in battle, though skittish around people he didn't know. This was another bird that I loved dearly, and in the event that he came over to me I knew I just had to give him a good rub down.

Zephyr hissed jealously at Jake, who lovingly pecked him back on the top of the head. All the birds here got along with one another—except when I wanted to mate them it seemed—and they all held the same kind of love for Zephyr that I did. He was the baby of the flock, and he was the child of the flock's elder, so of course everyone was going to love him and his spunky nature.

"I'm leaving for the day." I said to the Swellow. "You'll help Mama Bird keep everyone in check right?"

The handsome bird turned his head up, eyes shining and feathers sleek. He nodded eagerly, being one of the younger birds around here.

"Good boy." I ruffled his feathers once again before the elderly Pidgeot made her way down a thick rope from a structure built halfway into a tree. She screeched softly at me—not a bad sound at all—and climbed far enough so that she was able to hang in my direction, talons strong and sharply imbedded into the rope.

"Take care." I leaned up to nuzzle the upside down bird gently, while she went back and forth, trying to straighten her two son's hair. Zephyr shied away with a snort, and I merely rolled my eyes.

The flock of hidden birds in the sanctuary watched as me and Zephyr turned to leave without another word. I had to worry about my birds of course, and glance over my shoulder to make sure that everything was in order one last time before heading to the gate and going around to the front of the gym.

Pride—a name given to the jet black Staraptor that I raised from a starly—was waiting around the front of the gym, perched on the rooftop where people passing by could not try to approach him. Pride was the strongest bird I had around here, my ace in battle, my rock, and my number one ride. He had a wingspan of twelve feet, and enough strength to carry my easily from town to town. He loved to fight however, so I often had to restrain him with a pokeball around wild pokemon.

The black bird swooped down to the ground gracefully at the sight of me, lashing its huge wings in excitement and screaming loud enough to make the people sitting outside the shop across the street flinch. I waved them a sorry before nudging Pride a little roughly. Depending on the bird, I had my own way of showing affection; with Mama Bird it was respect, with Jake it was trust, with Zephyr it was structure, and with Pride it was dominance.

Pride would take to being the flock leader in a heartbeat if it wasn't for the fact that I was his master in this particular family. I knew he felt like an outsider sometimes, and thus I trained him to be the strongest he could be. No other bird in this sanctuary could match him in speed or strength—perhaps skill if Mama Bird was still in her youth, but he was by far the fiercest.

I wasted no time clamoring up on the bird and stuffing Zephyr between my chest and my jacket. I zipped him up so that he wouldn't have a chance of falling out, and laughed when he squealed in frustration. Perhaps by the time he was a Pidgeotto he could keep up with the other birds in flight, but for now he was stuck riding with me.

"Let's go Pride!" I hooted excitedly. He screeched again, feeling powerful as he tucked his wings and launched himself into the sky like no other bird could. I took a deep breath, letting the wind push my hair back and the sound of feathers flapping soothe me. There was nothing in this world that compared to flying. Nothing.

We wasted no time getting out the area, while my eyes stayed directed at the ground and behind me until the gym was long out of sight. I sighed peacefully, telling myself one more time that those birds would be fine without me for a few hours. I finally turned myself to be facing forward while we glided, seeing the glorious ground from so high above. Puffs of orange and red displayed the year around trees of Ecruteak City, while two large towers stood tall above them.

While I was in sort of a hurry to see Jasmine—and happy to be—I couldn't help but wonder what—the ghost gym leader was doing right now. I couldn't quite remember his name, though everyone else's had stuck, but I was curious to know if he was out somewhere flying with his ghosts. Was that even possible? I shook my head and pushed the thoughts away. Ghosts couldn't really make people fly with them; that was a myth. How thoughtless of me.

Only birds could fly.

….

~Jasmine~

What a day!

How absolutely thrilling it was to be able to wear a short billowy sun dress and a warm jacket without worrying about getting it dirty in battle.

Today was my day off because the whole seaside town was shut down for the Fall Festival that happened once a year to celebrate the coloring of the leaves and the lightening of the wild blue skies. It was both chilly and warm at the same time, with straddling effects on the ocean. The normally warm water would turn into a nippy ice block to anyone not used to it, and while large waves tended to bring in surfers from the east, it was relatively quiet until the season changed again.

I loved the summer, the heat, and the sun in general. But like most people I appreciated a break from it every now and again. Our short cold season was just the thing to ease the harsh sunburns and calices everyone seemed to sport like a fad around here.

The wild orange trees sprouted from Ecruteak all the way to Olivine at this time of year, and while I walked out side of my gym to head to the festival, I couldn't help but acknowledge their beauty. It was no secret to the world that Johto was the most beautiful of all the Regions, with its white sandy beaches and glorious year around weather.

My name is Jasmine, and I was born in this seaside town that I now lead the gym of steel pokemon in. I grew up traveling from here to Cianwood to visit my "Uncle", Chuck, who was both the fighting gym leader there, and not actually my Uncle. He was great friends with my father, who opened the Safari Zone not far from him, but after he decided to move back to Kanto for business, Chuck was left putting all his friendship in me.

Part of me felt sorry for him, and part of me just felt like he was looking down my shirt whenever he was around. Chuck was a mountain of a man with a bellowing laugh and a beer belly that shook with it. He loved to get drunk, train pokemon, watch porn, and most of all call me his niece. Of course I loved Chuck, in a strange way—that creepy uncle kind of way—but I had to admit he was probably one of the most annoying people I had ever met.

And I knew he would be at this festival tonight, harassing me about my "hot date" like he tried to over the phone before I hung up on him. It was not a date no matter how much I wished it was. Me and the hot rookie bird trainer were friends (for now), that was it.

Falkner was meeting me on the docs any moment now, and I was eagerly awaiting his awkward smile and striking clear blue eyes. He was tall, lean, soft in a strange way, and I was absolutely enthralled with him. Ever since I met him a few weeks ago he had been on my mind, making me lose easy battles and making my heart beat when his number rang on my pokegear. That boy was something special, and though I had only seen him once, I was recreating his face in my mind to see it.

I wanted to see the pain and the loss that he so bravely hid behind a mask of happy. I wanted to embrace him losing his father; I wanted to—dare I say—be there for him. Which was absolutely preposterous since I had never wanted such things for anyone else before. I loved life, I loved people, I loved pokemon, but what I didn't love was having to bear others problems concerning their life. In my opinion it was your business and should remain as such, so when I suddenly felt so curious towards Falkner, I actually scared myself.

Sure I had crushes on boys here and there growing up, but I had never been flattered with rejection either, so I didn't think much of it. Most boys absolutely loved me, not to float my own boat or anything, but I wasn't exactly ugly. I was fragile, small with petite features; completely breakable, which somehow made guys want to protect me. It was a part of their dominant nature I suppose. But hey, I'm not complaining.

My best friend Whitney used to tell me that I was a "sensible hopeless romantic", meaning that I was just as susceptible to going gaga over boys, but I did so realistically. Unlike her, who had called me every other day of her teenage life to tell me about boys that kissed her or made giddy. She was twenty this year—only a year older than me—and you would think that she was a peppy sixteen year old with no life and too many romance novels to read.

Within the last few weeks this particular feature about my best friend had skyrocketed. She claimed love at first sight with Falkner, and though it put a bad taste in my mouth, I tried not to let it bother me. Whitney would be over him and onto the next boy within a month or so and then I could keep him all to myself.

Was that controlling of me? To think… I was already planning out that he was going to be mine. I sighed at the thought, hoping that Whitney wouldn't be here tonight so that I wouldn't have to face the fact that I was whipped around her.

"Jasmine!"

I jumped in surprise, looking around at the strangers and familiar faces of the people of this town. No one here had called out from me, so I was completely shocked when a black blur flew before my eyes, screeching wildly and sending my dress up in surprise.

"Rough landing! Arceus Pride, you're getting' rusty."

I looked over, blushing at the bird trainer before me, talking to his—what kind of pokemon was that?

"Hey Falkner." I ran my hand through my hair, glad that I hadn't curled it like I considered. That may have made me look like I was begging for attention, and then of course I would be too nervous not to leave it alone. I would have messed it up.

"Hey." The navy haired boy turned and smiled at me, that straight smile with his ever so slight dimples. He had such a baby face, and yet it was clear as day that he was his father's son. Eighteen years old and thriving. He was spared the suffering of acne, as well as that awkward voice cracking thing. Of course by eighteen I would hope he didn't do that, but still.

He was a boy… but a very mature, handsome, classy and—the hell with it. Falkner was a man. Who was I kidding? He was oozing a sort of sex appeal that no child could master.

Or maybe that was just me putting him on some lovely pedestal and dressing him up into something bigger than he really was. It wouldn't be the first time a girl judged a boy blindly. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts before they got out of hand.

"What kind of bird is this?" I stepped towards the sleek oil colored pokemon with its beak open and panting. It looked excited, still feeling the adrenalin from flying as it folded its wings back and shook its head to straighten the windblown feathers around its face. It was extremely pretty, and strong, which was saying a lot considering the usual pokemon I found attractive involved sharp edges and hard bodies that couldn't be damaged.

I always wondered why steel type pokemon stuck out to me, and it wasn't until recently that I realized it was because they could protect me. I felt like maybe it was the fact that I was so small and delicate, that made me want to raise monstrosity pokemon like Steelix. It counteracted what I lacked.

"A Staraptor." Falkner explained. "Originally from Hoenn, but they tend to migrate this direction. I found this one— He set his hand on the pokemon's head—lost from its flock a couple years ago. I took him in."

I smiled as he pulled out a pokeball and called the bird back, thanking it again for its flight. He tucked the ball back onto his belt and then reached up to his jacket.

Only now did I realize that he had a large bundle wrapped between his chest and his shirt, tucked away in a place I wished I could be; Falkner's heart. He plucked the much smaller bird from his jacket and held it in his arm until it snapped out of its sleepiness and jerked away from him.

"Oh hi little—Zephyr? Right?" I looked at Falkner as I reached out to pet the little bird on the head. In the same instant it lifted its face and opened its mouth wide to make a harsh hissing noise at me.

Falkner pulled him back, scowling at the unruly thing. "Stop it!"

"No, no. That's my fault." I laughed sheepishly, thinking about the reaction my Steelix may have to a stranger. "I think he's just protecting you."

"He's a brat." Falkner shook his head, obviously not amused. He changed the subject swiftly. "How have you been?"

My heart fluttered. "Good! Pretty darn good." Nodding and smiling I turned from him. "You're going to like this Festival—I think. It's pretty interesting, they do a lot of shows off the docs, and since so many water pokemon live around here trainers for them aren't uncommon."

"Well what are we waiting for?" He flashed me that endearing smile and gestured forward, telling me to lead the way. I couldn't help it, I had to giggle. Like a pathetic little school girl with her first kiss lingering on her cheek. My head spun. I just felt so giddy around him. It was as if his constant flying high had transferred over to me and picked me up and dropped me, so that my stomach was flipping upside down with happiness. Was that how it felt to fly?

I sure didn't know much about emotions like this, but I knew one thing was for sure. If anyone was going to make me feel so high, it surely was going to be Falkner.

….

~Falkner~

"I—I'm so sorry! I—I have to go."

"Wait! Jasmine I'll come with you!" I suggested, though not eagerly for it had been ten o'clock and well past Zephyr's bedtime.

"No no no no!" Jasmine insisted. "This is my city, don't you worry about it. I'm sure everything is fine. Just go ahead home. I'll see you at the leaders meeting in a week."

She took off after that, leaving me to fly home thinking about what could be so important about the lighthouse going out. Jasmine had said lately it had been flickering, but it didn't seem to concern her until tonight when it went out, leaving the whole seaside city to gasp in fear.

I had to admit, despite not wanting anything to be wrong with my new friend's beloved city, I was happy to escape from the long day and retreat home. Because no matter how much new friendship I had for Jasmine, it didn't compare to my birds. They were my family, and snuggling up in a king size bed with them sprawled out around me was perhaps the nicest feeling in the world.

Jasmine and I did everything that could be done at that Fall festival. Eating vanilla bean ice-cream with Zephyr chirping over my shoulder for more than just a taste. He wanted to rub his stubby beak in it like he did the honey from the trees out behind the gym. Jasmine laughed and allowed him to do so in her share, even after I said no and that too much dairy was bad for him. It actually seemed to amuse her that I was so strict, and I could only sigh and shake my head, knowing that Jasmine was a force to be reckoned with.

Zephyr pushed his sticky little face against my newly cleaned face all night long, while trying to resume closeness to his keeper, who I knew he thought of as his father. That was me of course, his best friend, his buddy, his tough love trainer that was too soft to actually train him. I wondered if this was an ongoing thing, or if perhaps it was just the fact that he was the first bird I ever hatched from an egg. He was my baby, and I was becoming the father to him that my father was to his beloved birds before me.

Over the past few weeks I had suffered over trying to find out what I was doing with my life, and if this gym would ever be as great as when my father was its leader, but for that night—if only for a night—I allowed myself to feel justified with the way things were going.

I had a new friend, a girl that obviously liked me very much, and I was finally settling in well to this whole gym leader thing. For once in a long while I felt perfectly content. I was actually a little excited about going to this meeting this week. If Jasmine and I could be friends there was no reason why I couldn't be friends with the other leaders.

Pryce was already at ease with me, telling me stories over coffee on the phone. He called me one morning asking if I had heard about any strange activity in the region, but I told him no. He didn't seem all that fazed, but saying that large boulders had been placed strategically through the ice path by someone who obviously didn't want people coming through. He said it may have been Clair at first, but decided otherwise when I suggested she wouldn't lesson her battles by blocking trainers. It was a short and sweet conversation for the most part, until he got caught up in telling me about how this meeting was going to be a quiet one. The Elite four members were doing a random training session in that big open gym from last time, so we would all be spending the evening together outside at a group of picnic tables, which I had to admit sounded nice.

The next few days went by at ease, battling, training, loving my birds to the fullest of my potential while trying to overcome a certain nagging in the back of my head. I knew I should have called Jasmine to see if she solved the lighthouse problem, but it all sounded silly in my head when I tried to summon the simple words. In the end I decided that whatever happened wasn't serious enough that it couldn't wait until the meeting, and that she couldn't be upset because she made it sound like it was no big deal in the first place.

Two more days later and I was preparing myself for tonight, wondering who I would speak to and who would speak to me, and if I was cut out for this kind of casual conversation yet. I washed myself and Zephyr thoroughly, got around to filling the food bowls, hosed off the back patio and sprayed the treetops so the pollen wouldn't get too bad, and then finally summoned Pride to travel.


	5. Chapter 5

~Morty~

Once a year Johto held a shipping event for all the gym leaders. It was when a large cruiser traveled the world and went to foreign regions to pick up wild pokemon as well as donated pokemon for us here in Johto. As gym leaders we had to be ready to accept any challenge, and that involved raising and breeding foreign pokemon so that we could populate our land with new and exciting pets for trainers to catch. It was feverish, attracted a lot of attention, and worse of all, shipped the pokemon directly to Ecruteak. This meant that for about two days I had to be miserable while all the other leaders came around to pick up pokemon gathered for them.

And as if to make things worse, they told me that I was required to take in a foreign ghost pokemon as well. I wanted to rip my hair out at the idea, being so partial to true ghost types rather than impure double types. I wanted my pokemon to be able to vanish and manifest when called upon, not be called out of a ball. That was too much effort for me.

The pokemon they wanted me to take was from Unova, and it was perhaps the most pathetic thing I had ever seen upon my computer screen. I looked up the pokemon the morning the shipping train was supposed to come around, and was sad to see that it was nothing but a blob with a blue flame upon its squishy head.

Litwick. What kind of pokemon was named Litwick anyways? I was mentally planning how to release the pokemon before I even got it. Everyone would have to believe that it "ran away" because it was a ghost type, and they were pretty much free to go where they pleased against your will, but they wouldn't be happy with me, since I was the expert.

I groaned as I approached the edge of town, feeling the wind in the trees and watching maple leaves fall in a rain of orange flutters. It was beautiful here, especially in the Fall, but I was not partial to being out in this bright midday sun. It seemed everything that could be going wrong, was going wrong.

"Pick up! Pick up over here!" A man in uniform was shouting as a small shipping train came to a stop without a station. He waved his clipboard about trying to block young trainer that gathered to catch a glimpse of the wild pokemon in crates and cages. Some would be in pokeballs of course, but most of the gym leaders agreed that watching a pokemon wild would mean further loyalties, and so no pokeballs were used for our portion.

I could see Clair eagerly awaiting, shouting at young children to get the hell away from her while those train doors slid open. She was in surprisingly casual clothes, and her long pale blue hair was down to her hips limply. She looked as if she had a long night traveling to this city for her precious pokemon, and the Dragonair at her side proved just as excited.

"Name ma'am?" The service man asked, looking over his clipboard though he knew who she was.

"Chuck!" I was shoved aside roughly by a big brute that couldn't wait his fucking turn. He was followed shortly by Jasmine, who was nowhere near as bulgy as he was. She sprung in an out of the crowd easily while he just drew a line through them. I noticed a young girl—too young to be a trainer- fall to her side as the man bowled her over.

I cursed under my breath and bent to the girl, reaching out to pluck her by the hood of her jacket and stand her up straight. She had a skinny frame, with dark grey eyes lined by enormous glasses, brimming over with her tears. My heart ached sharply for a split second.

"You're fine little girl." I insisted, trying to herd her away. "Don't stop here; go on, the crowd is getting bad."

She whimpered, reaching her stubby hands up and trying to see through her cracked glasses.

"Where is your mother?" I asked, hand on her shoulder as I pushed through the crowd of older kids who whooped and yowled as the train door was opened to reveal the cages and crates of bellowing pokemon. All foreign, all unique in their own way.

"I—I do—don't know." She fought back tears.

"What is your name?" I asked when we cleared through. I stopped and bent to her level.

"Sh-shauntal." She spluttered. "M-m—my glass—glasses. Broked."

"They are just glasses." I told her, wondering what in the world I was doing. I had to get up to the train and get my pokemon otherwise the other leaders would be pissed at me for declining again. It was "bad for their imagine" when I did that, and I wasn't about to have any more reason for them to dislike me.

"Shauntal! Shauntal baby!"

A frantic mother's voice… that was music to my ears right now.

"Mommy?" The purple haired child looked in wonder at the sound of her name. "Mommy!"

I stood and recoiled to find the mother nearly crashing into me to get to her daughter. I stepped aside, snorting as such emotions were exchanged between them.

"Oh thank you." The mother turned to me after wiping away her tears of relief. "Thank you."

"No… problem." I turned, unsure of how rude it would be to leave now. "I have to…"

"Oh yes! Go on. Thank you again!" she shooed me away as I pointed at the train. Clair was busy looming over a huge crate in which a sleeping pokemon slept—obviously a dragon type by the sounds of its snores. Kids surrounded it, trying to poke fingers through the air holes and getting embers blown at them by her Dragonair in the process.

I avoided her as I hurried over, but couldn't avoid Chuck and Jasmine as they were waiting in excitement for their pokemon. I grumbled, not liking the niece and uncle combination in the slightest. Jasmine was annoying in her ways of sweetness. She was too innocent, too… perfect.

"Jasmine!"

Both of us whirled at the clear sound of her name, and it was in that moment that she made eye contact with me, perhaps thinking I had called her, but then realizing that it had been projected from the sky and not from behind her. Her eyes narrowed in amusement as a familiar bird trainer was swooping in.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath. It was Falkner.

Goddamn that pretty boy… liking a girl like Jasmine.

And goddamn that perfect girl for liking a boy like Falkner. I couldn't stand this jealousy.

"You're getting a pokemon?" Falkner swooped in on a giant black bird with distinct yellow eyes and sharp red feathers sticking out in front of its eyes.

"No, not this time." Jasmine looked depressed. "But Chuck is."

I couldn't believe that Falkner hadn't noticed me yet… I was right there! Just a few feet behind him and not even a passing glance was thrown in my direction. I glared, thinking that he probably forgot my name again.

"Oh yeah? What type?" Falkner asked the mountain of a man politely.

"Conklederp!" Chuck guffawed. "Big brute of a thing, just like me."

"You mean Conkledurr, Chuck." Jasmine corrected him, trying not to roll her eyes.

Falkner smiled. "From Unova?"

"Yep!" Chuck turned back to the man with the clipboard to receive a pokeball. Aparently he didn't care much about the effects of traded pokemon rather than wild pokemon. He gripped the thing in his massive hand and looked ready to launch it into battle right then and there. He slapped the man on the back in thanks for the pokemon before turning back to Jasmine and Falkner.

"There it is!" He tossed the ball up and caught it swiftly. "My new partner."

"Congrats." Jasmine sighed, as she was annoyed with her conversation interrupter. She was trying to ask Falkner what kind of pokemon he was getting today, but apparently he didn't know.

"All I know is that I'm getting a bird from Unova." He said. "I guess the flying gym leader there can't train it and wanted to ship it over to me to see if I can make some progress."

Jasmine smiled. "Well if anyone can you can."

Oh for Arceus sake. I swear I just vomited in my mouth.

Falkner blushed softly, his soft colored skin turning pink and making me glare. I wanted to snarl at the girl for flirting with Falkner. Let him be! Leave him alone! Stop complimenting him!

"Matsuba!?" The guy with the clipboard called out the next obvious name on the list. I flinched, tearing my eyes from the navy haired boy and his silvery little friend.

"Present." I muttered, stepping forward and angry that Falkner just now seemed to notice me.

"Hey Morty." He called as I walked past him. He was ignored though, much to my disregard, I would not talk to him while that petty little child was hanging around.

Jasmine… so sweet… so innocent. I hated her.

"Litwick." The clipboard man pointed to a tiny pet carrier his assistance was carrying. Another uniformed man looking depressed held it out to me. It was no bigger than a shoebox…

"What is it Morty?" Falkner asked, curiosity in his wide blue eyes. I felt miserable at such a tiny little pokemon. Was this a joke?

I brought the crate up to my face and peered inside where a small blue flame was glowing. All I could see was something that looked like a pile of marshmallow goo in its glow.

"Litwick." I scowled awkwardly. "A… fire ghost type."

"Sounds interesting." He mused, trying to look inside while I held it purposefully away.

"It's asleep." I mumbled, as if that would make it less interesting.

"Oh." Falkner murmured and opened his mouth to say something else when a terribly loud wail cut him off. We looked back to the train, glancing around the inside where a cage nearly as large as Clair's was being hauled out on rollers.

"Falkner!"

His name was called unnecessarily since he was standing right there.

"Bravairy… Be careful with it. You requested no sedation or pokeballs… It's pretty pissed off." The clipboard man glared at the cage. There was a large green cover on it, flapping from the massive birds wings on the inside. It had many small holes in it, and screamed with anger. I looked at Falkner as it was wheeled to his hands.

He looked… excited?

Why the hell couldn't I get a strong pokemon like that? I looked down at the measly blob inside my pet carrier. It was slept easily, making small snuffling noises with its tiny mouth open and a fleshy pink color. It smelt like wax and ashes.

"Ready to get to work Pride?" Falkner called back to his black bird, who was hanging back behind the crowd patiently. It screeched loudly in response to its master, yellow eyes blistering with desire.

"Work?" I asked as Falkner gripped the sides of the cage and started pushing it back towards his bird.

Jasmine stood beside me now, her eyes wandering between me and Falkner as if she was confused over our friendship. At least I could be happy about that. He hadn't made it obvious to her that we were sort of more than just acquaintances.

"Yeah." Falkner called over his shoulder. Jasmine moved to follow him as did I, but no eye contact was shared between us. "The leader that had this bird said that she couldn't break it."

"Break? What do you mean by that?" Jasmine mused.

"Like a wild Rapidash, this bird needs to be broken." Falkner explained as it screeched and squealed as if it was so enthralled in rage it couldn't control itself. I wanted to see this creature with my own eyes, but more or less I wished I could watch Falkner "break" it. I caught a glimpse of him flying in on his bird, Pride, just a moment ago, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to see it all.

"Oh. Well I hope you're careful." Jasmine insisted. "I wish I could stay and chat, but Chuck wants me to help him with his new pokemon back in Cianwood so…"

"Oh yeah, no problem." Falkner was ignoring her to my liking, too excited with his new bird to bother returning an awkward little hug she placed upon him. I tried not to snicker as her face fall. Beyond the birds wailing Chuck bellowed for her.

"Are you coming Saturday Falkner?" She asked before turning away.

"I don't know yet." Falkner pried open one of the holes the bird had pecked through the green cover around its cage. He glanced in eagerly, only to jolt back when something hit the cage with great force. The wheels shifted from its weight and I nearly dropped my pitiful little pokemon to catch it. Falkner reached out before me though and steadied the livid creature.

Jasmine was obviously displeased by the little amount of attention he was giving her, and I snickered when she turned and left with a sad look on her face. She needed a reminder that Falkner was not hers and did not belong to her. I perched my lips and walked up to Falkner, knowing that if I tried to talk about anything other than his bird he would give me the same treatment.

"Care if I watch you?" I asked, tucking the pet carrier under my arm.

Falkner turned his clear blue eyes on me. They shone with determination and excitement, which made him look younger and less like his father than ever before. I could very nearly see a whole new person on his face—his mother I assumed.

"Sure. Why not?" he shrugged. "And if this thing takes my head off in the process you can call an ambulance."

I grinned, wondering when he had gotten to such high spirits. What had started out being a pretty shitty day actually seemed to fall into place now. Falkner ran a hand through his dark blue hair, fluffing up a couple feathery locks on the back of his neck. He was so… pleasant. Completely immuned to my said weird ways. He was perhaps the one person in this world that didn't seem to notice… and if he did then it didn't bother him.

"Deal." I agreed with a smirk.


	6. Chapter 6

~Falkner~

Breaking a wild bird was probably my favorite and least favorite part of being a trainer. Depending on the breed, gender, and upbringing of the bird it could make my day, or rather break me in the process. Most females were easier to deal with, however I found handling males was rather easy because I could be rougher with them and not feel bad. Most birds from Johto were easier for me to handle as well, but on rare occasions when I got foreign pokemon they seemed to be harder to manage.

Like this one, the Bravairy I was already proving to be a problem. I hadnt even gotten the cover off of its cage when it snapped at me and sliced my finger open. I bandaged it easily and steadied myself for round two, with the thing squealing and screaming in rage while I tried my hardest to become its friend.

Some birds would take to kindness and persuasion with food, but this one was not having it. Unlike my foreign Swellow, Jake, who had come so calmly to my gentle coaxing, this bird was going to have to be broken the hard way. I flew home quickly, leaving Morty alone with the wild pokemon in order to get my "tools" for the job. He was surprisingly ok with it, and when I came back it seemed to have calmed down ever so slightly.

Of course when I brought forth a pair of "bird cuffs" as my father would have called them, the Bravairy went crazy. Whatever leader had this bird before obviously tried it already, and that made me nervous. No nervous enough not to try though, I declared I wouldn't go home today until this bird was broken or I was in the hospital.

"Alright Pride." I bent to cuff one end of the swiveling wire around his foot. "I'm counting on you."

The wire cuffs that I used stretched and swiveled with the way the birds moved, so it was virtually impossible for the birds to be harmed by them, and not to mention it was easier to train a bird while you hand another there as influence. Birds flocked naturally when one bird dominated over another, and I knew that if I could get this Bravairy to submit under Pride, it would have to submit under me as well.

One cuff attached to my beloved Staraptor, one cuff had to go around Bravairy, who was nameless now and until it was broken. I took a deep breath, looking at the thing as it attacked its metal bar cage and screeched at me. What a noise this bird could make, and with no sign of stopping any time soon I was forced to endure it bravely.

"How do you plan on getting that thing on?" Morty eventually asked me, after quite a few long moments of staring the bird down and flinching every time it rammed its head into the cage. I was trying to look strong and dominant in front of the bird, but its mental health was bringing me down. It was so distressed…

"I—I don't know." I ran a hand through my hair awkwardly. Of course I watched my father break birds plenty of times before, but even when he allowed me to break them he always put the cuff on it. This was the first time that I had to do it on my own.

"Need help?"

I shook my head. "No…"

"It will be easy if you let my ghost pokemon put it to sleep." Morty suggested. "That's not unnatural sedation."

I hated the idea of putting these pokemon to sleep against their own will, but what bothered me was the fact that it was giving them shots that made them that way. I hated seeing them slowly lull into a helpless state, and even if it was a ghost pokemon's doing… I bit my lip.

But there was no way I could even open the door of its cage without sedating it first. It would help itself to pecking out my eyes before I got close enough to put a brace on its foot.

"I—I guess." I allowed. "But I don't want to see it."

Morty chuckled. "There's nothing to see anyways... Gengar…"

Bravairy went absolutely crazy as another pokemon approached it, appearing before us in the shape of some foggy blob with wispy claws and narrowed orange eyes. It made no noise, but slunk forward and grinned a thousand needle-like teeth grin. I shivered, feeling faint as it opened its wide mouth and stuck out a long, slimy tongue to my bird. Bravairy wailed, attacking the cage, trying to get the ghost type while it was just too far from its reach.

"Hypnosis." Morty ordered calmly. "Go on."

I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut and reaching up to block Zephyr's view of the attack. No need to make him fall asleep, no matter how untrained he was. He happily pecked the white bandages on my hand, confused at them and chirping as if it was supposed to hurt me.

A waited impatiently for the Bravairy's noise to die down, wondering how my father used to sedate birds like this before breaking them. He had a Noctowl for a long time, so he could have used to same tricks that Morty did now. Unfortunately that bird had passed not long after he himself did.

I waited until it was silent.

"There. Easy." Morty said as the sound of a bird slumping over in exhaustion came. I turned in just enough time to see Gengar slink away into nothing and Bravairy's eyes close.

The heap of a bird looked precious sleeping, peaceful and soft with its very long red, white, and blue feathers lying flat. I examined it carefully, noticing the long talons, the wide hooked beak, the way its eyes sat on the front of its head rather than the sides. Bravairy was no gentle foul like a Swellow or Pidgey; it was a killer. Everything about this bird showed signs of a hunter. I was both amazed and nervous to be able to break it.

"What are you staring at?" Morty asked after a moment, his voice closer to me than I expected.

"Huh? Oh…" I realized I had been staring for longer than I expected. "It's just… look at it."

Morty's eyes peered through the bars of the cage as I bent to open the door. The slumped over Bravairy was blocking it partially, so I had to reach out and catch it before it slipped out to the ground.

Gently maneuvering the bird out of the cage I ran my hands across its neck, threading them through the soft undercoat that was covered by a layer of firm oily feathers. That alone told me that this bird was a diver. It probably lived around lakes or rivers and dove for its meal, being Magikarp because any other pokemon would have the tendency to fight back.

"What am I looking at… exactly?" Morty asked after I beckoned Pride over. The black bird hobbled past with its cuffed talon.

I sighed, shaking my head slightly but not in disappointment. I knew it was hard for normal people to see the true beauty of birds, and I didn't question it, but that didn't mean I understood it. With or without my father's upbringing, I was pretty sure I would love birds regardless. Everything about them astounded me. Their natural design, their range of colors, their keen eyes.

"I can't explain it." I said to Morty while gently cuffing the Bravairy around the foot.

"Hmm… So what are you going to be doing exactly?" He walked around me while I worked; clipping things together and making sure the wire wouldn't break during flight.

"I'm going to be flying…" I mumbled, thinking that the only way I could ever control this bird was if I had its mouth under control. I was completely against taping beaks shut, but I couldn't think of any other way this would work. I sighed, reaching into my back pocket to grab a roll of cloth tape.

It may have been easier to just let Pride fight the bird and then catch it with a pokeball, but I wasn't quite sure Pride could defeat it. Let alone if the Bravairy even put up a fight, it would probably just run.

Flinching I pinched its beak shut and taped around it, being sure to leave its nostrils open so it could breathe. My father used to tape beaks every once in a while, despite not liking it either. I remembered one incident when a nasty dodrio had been taped on one of its beaks only to use another beak to pry it off before my father could tape them all shut. In the end he was pecked straight to the hospital, making my five year old self terrified of anything with more than one head.

"You're going to fly?" Morty asked as I took a step back from the limp bird.

"Absolutely… when does the hypnosis wear off?"

"Wait. Wiat. Let me get this straight… you are going to fly?"

"With the Bravairy." I turned to him, again surprised by how close he was. I noticed now just how much taller Morty was than me. Probably three or four inches with his hair fluffed up out of his headband. I was actually daunted for a split second until I took a step back.

"As in… you are going to… ride… that thing?" Morty's lavender eyes grew narrow with a sort of worried suspicion.

I nodded, positive I was making myself clear. It didn't sound that unreasonable did it? I mean… he talked to ghosts so how could he judge me? At least my activities didn't involve the dead… just possible death itself.

"You're crazy." Morty snorted after a moment. "It will wake up soon…"

"I'm not crazy." I shook my head, reaching up to my shoulder where a well behaved Zephyr had been sitting. "I'm a bird trainer… and bird trainers ride birds… Right?"

Zephyr turned his head away stubbornly, as if to say "You will never ride me."

"Well I guess…" Morty folded his arms across his chest as I steadied Zephyr on my hand.

"Here." I held the little bird out to the ghost trainer. "You'll hang onto him for a while right?"

"What-?

"He will be good."

"Uhh… I—ok, sure." He reached forward, moving his hand in the same way that I did until the little pidgey hopped onto him and started nuzzling the ripped ends of Morty's scarf. Zephyr hid in the tangles, peering up at me mischievously.

"You be good." I tapped him on the head. "Thanks Morty."

"Yeah… uhh, no problem." He shrugged, turning away and taking my bird with him. "We'll be over here."

I nodded thanks away and turned, scanning the clearing I had chosen to break the bird in. It was very large, lined with orange and red trees that billowed in the wind. Everything smelt of autumn and made me smile. I quite liked this season; it was when all the wild birds flew south for the winter.

"Alright Bravairy." I took a deep breath, looking down at the slowly rising and falling heap of feathers. "Time to be broken."


	7. Chapter 7

~Morty~

Now, just to clear things up, I am no worrywart. I've never flinched away from death, I've never even thought twice about it. Why? Well because death made no difference to me. Dead or alive it didn't matter what you were, I could still talk to you, I could feel and understand you, so it thoroughly surprised me when I was actually worried about Falkner dying.

That damn bird of his hurdled towards earth at lightning speed, having just broken free of the wire between its foot and Pride's, and slashing madly at its taped beak until it clawed it open. It made one hell of a noise, and to my astonishment, turned tail and started racing at the ground. Falkner held tight, his legs pierced around the body of the bird and his hands gripping the shoulders. I couldn't believe my eyes as the thing dropped, flipped upside down into a barrel role, and sent Falkner into a limp state of unconsciousness.

I yelped in surprise, abandoning where I sat in the tall grass with Zephyr and my new annoying little marshmallow to see if he was alive or not. Of course, had I thought twice about him being dead I would have realized that was perfectly ok, because I could then keep him all to myself and not work about Jasmine taking his time. Falkner would only be able to communicate with me, and I loved that idea.

However, the relief was strong when I found that he was very much so alive, just knocked out and looking very helpless. I wondered briefly what he was thinking in trying to ride such an animal, and then decided that it was past the point of no return anyways. He couldn't "break" it, not now at least. And so I waited until Pride had pinned the thing to the ground to throw a ball at it. Technically that meant it was mine, but I didn't want it so I stuffed the ball in Falkner's back pocket for him to find later.

Falkner showed no sign of waking up as I poked and shook him lightly, so after a few moments or so I had gripped his lean sides and thrown him over my shoulder like the hunted. He hung like a ragdoll, and I couldn't help but find enjoyment in that as I carried him to my gym, which was a couple blocks and many curious pedestrians away.

Once inside I took him to my room, telling my elderly assistances that nothing was the matter and that they could go back to reading their witchcraft. We went straight to the back half of the gym, where my house—complete with modern kitchen and living space—was. I slumped him over on the couch and went to find a pokeball for Litwick, who wouldn't stop dancing to whatever fucking song it was singing in its head.

Zephyr didn't leave its masters side as I unworriedly washed my hands and face and pulled the headband from my head and the scarf from my neck. I put a kettle of tea over the stove, started the fireplace, and then finally decided I mid as well wake Falkner up, though I liked the idea of him sleeping on my couch very much.

A faithful Gastly wafted over to me while I went through the motions of getting comfortable, sitting on the arm of the leather couch and sipping on a glass of water.

"Guess we should wake him up…" I commented again with a sigh. Zephyr looked up at me curiously; unaware of the pokemon I was talking to. Of course a normal type like him couldn't see the ghost.

Gastly whispered emotions in my ear and then disappeared to jolt Falkner out of his sleeping state. I waited a moment, thinking about the way he looked when he slept, with his soft mop of navy hair splayed out all over the place and his narrow lips perched slightly.

Zephyr chirped nervously, pecking at his master's chin while Gastly turned the body cold for a moment. I waited, solemn faced and taking another drink of my water.

Suddenly he gasped, jolted upright and out of some horrible state of mind with his aqua eyes wide and his hands shaking. He reached for his chest, coughing madly while my Gastly abandoned the body with an evil laugh. I glared after the spirit.

"Arceus… Oh… dear Arceus, what the hell… was…" Falkner looked around in confusion at the modern home in which he lay in. Leather couch, granite countertops, wooden shelving, it was all so normal for someone like me to live in right? The only odd thing about it actually was that I didn't have more than a single lamp of unnatural light. I had candles though; sitting on every shelf and around every corner, lighting the space dimly with an eerie orange glow.

"What did he show you?" I wondered. "That pokemon has an act for giving nightmares. Gastly you know… almost as bad as Haunter."

"I—I was falling." Falkner swallowed. "Really quickly too… like I was being pulled to the ground. And then I—I woke up when I landed."

I snickered. "That really happened, Falkner."

"But… but I…"

"Your Bravairy…" I prompted. "Let's just say it broke you, rather than you breaking it."

His face fell and he cursed under his breath. Mechanically sadness came over him, and Zephyr was surprisingly nice about it. The bird pressed its stubby beak into the crook of his elbow and chirped. Perhaps he was apologizing for his own kind being so ruthless.

"It got away… Didn't it?" Falkner ran a hand through his hair, only to flinch and curse again with pain.

"Oh yeah." That reminded me. "How's your head?"

"Not good… obviously. I—I was bleeding?" He applied pressure to the crusty knob that was centered just behind his ear.

"I didn't notice that." I moved instantly, heading for the kitchen to retrieve a bag of frozen peas and the kettle of tea. I pulled a clean mug from the cabinet as Falkner went on.

"My bird. Morty, did it fly away? Did you see where it went?"

I tossed the bag at him on my way back, making Zephyr flutter in the air for a moment before landing on the back of my couch. He glared at me with his beady black eyes.

"Check your back pocket." I suggested. "Tea?"

"Uhh… no, no thanks." He sat upright dizzily and reached for his pocket. I had taken my sweet time stuffing that pokeball into the lowest area of his ass, and I didn't appreciate how quickly he yanked it out. I ignored his decline tea and poured it anyways, expecting him to drink it and like it.

"I—I caught it?" He looked at the red and white ball in despair, while pressing the peas to his head gently. It was obvious he couldn't remember what had happened.

"No, you were too busy passing out." I filled my glass with tea and took a sip. The leaves may have been a little bitter in this batch, but I didn't mind. "I caught it so that it wouldn't fly away… Hell it almost did, but your— whatever its name is, pinned it down."

"Pride?" Falkner assumed, reaching for his belt. As if he could call a pokemon back in a state of unconsciousness.. "Well… where is he?" he asked when it didn't make sense.

"He on the other hand flew away." I shrugged.

"What?" Falkner shifted upright. "He flew away? Why? What direction did he go?"

"Calm down." I curled my lip at him. "Would he really run away? He seemed pretty loyal up until that moment. Maybe I scared him or something."

Falkner's face fell. "I—I need to get home. He probably flew back there…"

I glared at him halfheartedly. "How do you suppose you will get there?"

"Shit…" He dropped the bag of frozen peas and covered his face with his hands. "I have no ride! I'm going to have to walk through the night…"

Dusk had fallen upon my quiet little town quickly and it seemed Falkner was not so jostled as to notice that the sun was pretty much gone now. We both glanced out the large window above my kitchen sink and sighed. Though his was of annoyance and mine was of happiness.

"Why do that?" I commented softly. "I have a spare room… and I think you should use it."

"No. No, I can't." He shook his head instantly. "I've been gone all day and the birds are still out… if I'm not there they will freak a—

"Falkner. You were drilled into the ground, cut your head open and—I leaned over to look closely. He flinched, but no doubt his eyes were dialated.—you have a concussion." I finished with a short. His poor pretty blue eyes looked all googly and awkward.

"Then I can't sleep anyways." He insisted, pushing away from me to stand. "I might go into a coma."

"You can't walk all that way alone." I nearly reached out to pull him back onto the couch, but stopped myself mid-lunge with a grit of my teeth. Why did I want to… touch him so badly?

"I've got Zephyr." He crossed his arms and the bird chirped in agreement, fluttering up to his shoulder and rubbing his head against Falkner's neck.

"A mere stuffed toy." I scoffed. "You want to get killed don't you? You're a suicidal. That's why you ride birds like that Bravairy in the first place huh?"

"No. Morty. Stop, I have to leave." Falkner stepped forward, rubbing his face carefully and gritting his teeth.

My eyes narrowed at him. Tough ass little boy. Thinking he could embrace the night like that. He didn't know what was out there, and yet I knew I couldn't restrain him unless I wanted to go to jail for pedophilia.

Wait—no, Falkner was eighteen now. I could salvage him here and no one could judge me fo—oh fuck who was I kidding.

"I'll walk you home then." I suggested. "And if you pass out again on the way I'm taking you straight back here."

Falkner sighed. Didn't this just feel so repetitive? Falkner had told me I could call an ambulance if he got hurt riding that damn bird, and I hadn't done so when I probably should have. And now it was me itching for a deal.

"I'll be fine." Falkner insisted. "Really, it's not that far anyways."

I set my glass down with a huff and went towards the door of my house, which actually lead to the back of my gym. Hanging on a hook was my scarf and headband. I grabbed them both and put them on before reaching up to grab another hanging item. It was a dark grey sweatshirt I used only when working out or during vigorous training. With a grunt I turned and tossed it at the navy haired boy.

Falkner let it fall to the floor before picking it up and staring in confusion.

"It's cold." I said simply.

"Yeah…" He stared down at the material carefully for a long moment. "Hey… Morty?"

"What?" I looked back at his solemn face.

"How come—

"What?" I repeated, stunned by his change of tone. He no longer looked stubborn and determined. He looked… actually somewhat sad and appreciative at the same time. His bright blue eyes dulled.

"Never mind… thanks" He set Zephyr on the edge of the couch before pulling on the jacket swiftly. He wouldn't let it touch the back of his head as he did so, but cringed anyways.

"No. Tell me." I insisted, wrapping the scarf tighter around my neck.

Falkner sighed. "Did you want to go to that beach party this weekend?"

We both knew very well that wasn't what he was going to say, and it only irritated me even more. I had to hide my scowl, while I reached for my keys on the hook I buried my mouth in the scarf and tried to let my brow loosen. Besides, I really hadn't thought much about that beach party this weekend, and I couldn't be sure if it was worth it to see Jasmine swooning over Falkner in a bikini the whole time or not. I grimaced. Today was Thursday and if I didn't give him a decision he would assume I didn't want to.

"Sure…" I mumbled. There was always the fact that Falkner would be shirtless as well…

But that was beside the point. Dammit I didn't even care. I just wanted to know what he was going to say originally!

"Alright… I'll let Jasmine know." Falkner said, now covered by my slightly too large sweatshirt and looking cute with his pink flushed cheeks and his hands in his pockets. I tried not to glare at him for being so delectable.

"Come on." I hissed into my scarf. "Let's get you home."


	8. Chapter 8

~Jasmine~

"I'm sorry sweetheart." Whitney whined to me. "Just a stupid boy you know… don't let him get to you."

But it was actually her that was getting to me. Whitney with her pink hair clipped up and falling loosely around her face, her soaking when tshirt and her lack of actual labor as we—I—worked to scrub the mud off of my beloved Steelix.

It was a mild Friday afternoon and I had shut the gym down early just in case my "Uncle" decided he wanted to stay the night since the beach gathering was tomorrow. Chuck could find his own place to stay for all I cared, and if the gym was shut down then he would have to assume I wasn't home. Besides, no one would be that pushy. I counted my blessings and hoped that was true—but still. Not that pushy…

Whitney had come over unexpectedly in Chuck's place; all the way from Goldenrod and hoping I would give her my small couch for the night. I reluctantly said yes, but made her agree to help me wash my battle-dirty pokemon in exchange. Steelix was a handful to care for and clean, and if Whitney could help in any way possible I would gladly let her sleep here tonight.

But that was the problem. Whitney wasn't helping like she said she would; she was sitting on my pokemon and holding a dry sponge in her lap with no sign of moving. I even sprayed her with the hose and she still didn't budge.

Groaning I leaned against Steelix's massive head. "Whitney, I don't want to talk about it anymore!"

"You are totally in love with him though! How could you not want to talk about him?"

In love with Falkner… pfft. I blew my damp hair out of my face and sighed. I couldn't be in love with someone I had only just met… sure we hung out a few times, and we enjoyed each other's company, but I didn't "love" him. For Arceus sake I couldn't love anyone that said he would call me and then didn't.

"She driving you crazy too, boy?" I whispered to Steelix, patting his brow harshly. He wouldn't feel it if I was any gentler.

Steelix rumbled in response, which I was sure felt like the vibrator of the century between Whitney's legs.

"You're a pretty boy." I rubbed my pokemon, hugging his nose gently. He heaved a mighty sigh that blew my skirt back. "Look, you're almost clean… If WHITNEY would get off her butt and help, we would be done by now."

Steelix rumbled again, making Whitney giggle.

"Oh, alright." My pink haired best friend got down and soaked her fat yellow sponge in a bucket of soap.

"Thanks Whit!" I yelled sarcastically, moving around to the other side of my pokemon and snatching a towel form the floor.

"Oh you're welcome, Honey. I know how dreadful work can be when you just want to wallow in self pity."

"I'm not wallowing!"

"Then call Falkner and give him a piece of your mind!"

"I'm not going to be pushy! Ever wonder why you don't have a boyfriend? It's because you drive them away!"

Whitney leapt over one of the metal boulders and planted her chin on her hands, looking down at me gleefully. "So you think you have a chance with Falkner at all?"

I snorted. "We'll see if he shows up tomorrow."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I don't know…"

"Kick him to the curb. There's always Bugsy!" She cheered.

I flinched. Lean and strong or short and… pudgy… I didn't see a comparison between Falkner and Bugsy.

"Bugsy is gross." I shook my head. "He perves around with Chuck and slapped my butt at a Christmas party last year."

Whitney laughed. "Well what about Morty? I think that weirdo is worse than Bugsy and Chuck put together."

I grimaced. Morty gave me the heebie-jeebies. I couldn't explain why, or how, or when it started; all I knew was that he stared at people with those light violet eyes and it freaked me out. Everything about his screamed rape, and I found it hard to even open my mouth when he was around.

"No." I shook my head. "Whitney, don't even joke."

I wouldn't lie… there was another reason why I disliked Morty so much. It was because he seemed to be perfectly good acquaintances with Falkner.

"One of these days he is going to snap… you know how he just stands around in the back at the meetings?" Whitney mused. "He's going to snap and kill us all. I bet he will eat our souls too. Or lock them in his genie lamp."

I laughed. "Whitney, genies and ghosts aren't the same thing. Genies aren't even real."

"You get my point though!" She cried, wiggling until it looked as if her boobs were washing my pokemon rather than the sponge in her hand. "I mean honestly… Half the time he doesn't even come to the meetings… Actually. He didn't show up for nearly a year until Falkner joined us."

I flinched internally. And now that Falkner was there he seemed to be sticking around for good. "Maybe it's just a faze." I suggested lamely.

"Or maybe Grumpig will fly." Whitney sighed dramatically. "But don't let it bother you."

"How can I not?" I rolled my eyes. "I mean… doesn't Morty… freak you out? Even a little bit?"

"Of course." She agreed. "But really that's not what I was getting at."

"Then wha—

"This!" Whitney yapped happily, grabbing the bucket from her side of Steelix and slinging it over until the soapy contents poured all over my head. I gasped, dropped my sponge and tried to push the hair out of my face as well as the suds getting in my eyes.

"Whitney!" I hissed, seconds before a sponge was thrown at my head.

"Silly girl! Stop fretting over everything. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day! AND we are playing spin the bottle."

"You got soap in my eyes." I moaned, leaning against Steelix again and feeling only a little less miserable. "And if Falkner doesn't show up then I don't want to play spin the bottle at all."

"Oh please." Whitney rolled her eyes. "It's not like I would let you get anyone else anyways. No one else deserves your smooches."

I flipped my sopping hair out of my face and rubbed the running eyeliner across my cheeks. "Just for that Whitney I hope you get Bugsy playing spin the bottle. Or chuck."

Whitney laughed. "Those two aren't worse than Morty."

"Yeah well Morty isn't coming so I didn't count him."

"Right." My dearest best friend sprawled over the back of my pokemon, looking uncomfortable on his hard metal body. "No one invited him anyways."

I reached down to grab a towel that had only been mildly soaked by Whitney and started drying off. She was right… no one invited Morty anyways. I huffed a laugh, determined to change the subject before it got out of hand.

"Whitney."

"Huh?"

I threw a towel at her. "If you don't stop goofing off and help me, I'm making you sleep outside tonight."

She whined. "Oh alright. Fine."

"Good."

"I still think you should call Falkner though…"

…

~Falkner~

It was the day of the beach party with the gym leaders, and I was surprisingly dissatisfied. All of Johto had stilled over with rain clouds and I could smell the sultry ocean air even before I reached Olivine. There was certainly going to be a storm soon, but the question was as of when. Not to mention I wasn't fond of the ocean in the slightest, and this WAS a beach party. Though too cold to be swimming I found myself worried over getting even knee deep in the salt water.

I hadn't mentioned it to anyone for obvious reasons, but it was slapping me in the face now. The fact of the matter was I just couldn't swim, and if that secret got out today I was sure I would die of embarrassment. I was quite terrified of the ocean or any large body of water, and always used to excuse of being a bird trainer to cover it. I liked to fly not swim.

My father never knew how to swim either, and I took comfort in knowing that as well as a strange nervousness. What if the gym leaders knew that about him and assumed the same about me? A man of his stature should have been perfectly capable of at least not drowning in the water, but he never so much as got wet unless it involved showering. The man didn't even like baths for Arceus sake, and that had all lead up to me being the same way.

I didn't know how to swim…

And I was going to a beach party, trying my hardest to look innocent while in all reality, the jean shorts I wore would not be getting even a little water on them today. Plenty of sand! But no water. I refused to go that close to the lapping waves.

Flanked on both sides of me were my beloved birds. Jake and Mama Bird were coming along for the ride today, following me and Pride in a perfect V formation through the thick air. It was hard to see and a little frightening to know that there may still be a little summertime friction hanging about in the sky, but wonderful none the less.

Mama Bird was having a good day today, her old frail bones proving still worthy of a long flight like this one to Olivine, and Jake was happily singing loud enough to hear beyond Pride's ten foot wingspan. Pride may have even tweeted along at one point, but it was too obviously hidden in the wind to know for sure.

Zephyr was tucked tightly into the sweat jacket I wore backwards—which was actually Morty's that I intended to give back today—and he was either asleep or too fed up with the wind battering him in the face to come out. I didn't always understand Zephyr, since he was so obviously a bird but was bipolar in his flying. Half of the time he acted as if he wanted to fly with the older more powerful birds, and half the time he acted as if it was a nuisance. But regardless of, his favorite spot was still perched on my shoulder where he could sit and be lazy with his attitude problems.

I tilted my chin down and nuzzled the plump shape of my bird lovingly, causing his little head to poke up out of the hood pocket. His eyes narrowed at me slightly though he nuzzled back anyways, ducking down into the hood again. I assumed it was him on good behavior with his mother flying nearby, but I still appreciated the affection anyways. Zephyr was a stubborn little thing and needed a lot of love whether he acted like it or not.

I looked towards the ground, peering through the clouds as we flew closer and closer to our destination. The white of the beach had come into view quickly and I was herding the group slowly while still searching for any signs of the beach party. Jasmine would have called if it was called off, and I knew I wasn't on time so of course they should be there already.

We passed the peer before I noticed one awkward pudgy shape running with a blow up ball as big as him through the sand. I blinked mechanically and tilted downwards to lead Pride in. Jake and Mama Bird followed effortlessly, but with keen eyes as to see the lanky, lightning fast bug that skittered around its master, waving small hooked scythes back and forth.

"Bugsy!" I called, startling the bug into a defensive pose. Naturally bug pokemon and bird pokemon didn't get along, and Pride was already screeching a warning at it before we landed.

"OH hey Falkner!" Bugsy waved his thick hand at me and grinned. "Nice ride you got there."

"Thanks." I said swiftly, focusing on Pride blowing sand up in a whir. We landed easily, but not soon enough for me to get off and help Mama Bird. Her weak legs made her topple forward and she narrowly avoided falling on her face in the sand. I flinched, though she seemed unfazed by it, turning her attention to Jake who nervously landed on my shoulder—or tried to at least.

Swellow were not the largest of all the bird pokemon, but Jake certainly was not a comfortable weight on me. He flapped his wings madly trying to stay upright while I leaned forward, ordering him off.

"Jake!" I snapped, pushing my arm up on his chest so that he hadnt a choice but to step onto it. He looked down ashamed, a noise in the back of his throat saying he was sorry, but not giving away his anxiety. He peered at Bugsy with wide yellow eyes.

"Brought the whole gang huh?" Bugsy mused. "Looks like a nice set you've got."

"Trust me there are plenty more I could have brought." I rolled my eyes. Back at the sanctuary there were thirty or so more birds—mostly young pidgeotto and some tallow that had been shipped over from Hoenn by accident. They were all flock birds however, and found happiness in being together with their own kind rather than being with me. Unlike Mama Bird, Jake, and Pride, they wanted to be treated as wild pokemon with the luxuries of being fed and housed. I didn't mind of course, that was the whole point of my sanctuary.

"This one…" I turned to Bugsy with an awkward swallow, and set my hand on the Staraptor's head. "Is Pride."

Bugsy nodded.

"And Jake." I held up the Swellow with great effort. Forty five pounds of feathers was not light as it sounded. Lastly I gestured towards Pidgeot. "And Mama Bird."

"Nice to meet all of you." Bugsy shrugged, turning to grab the scythe—which I guess was the hand—of his own pokemon. "Scythy here. He's the only pokemon I brought, since caterpie is too slimy to travel through sand and Metapod… well metapod is kind of dormant until it evolves."

"Falkner!"

I was about to say something, but it wasn't important compared to the voice calling me. I looked over, blinking with a sigh to see Jasmine running with her friend Whitney to greet me.

The steel gym leader never looked more beautiful or more like a child in my eyes—which was weird to think about—but either way I was shocked to see such a state. She was sleek, with longer torso than legs and a flat toned stomach that made me blush. She wore nothing but a pair of very short cotton shorts and a bikini top that tied around her neck. Her hair was curled, her light brown eyes smiling, and her lips painted a shade of pale pink to match the blush on her face.

She through her arms around me and hugged me in excitement, making me jolt back and making Zephyr scream in frustration. He popped out of the hood against my chest and pecked madly at Jasmine for daring squash him between us.

"Ow. Oh… Sorry!" She pulled away giggling at the Pidgey, but still looking tenderly at me. Zephyr hissed in annoyance and decided it was time to emerge from his hiding. He climbed easily to my shoulder, nudging Jake away from my arm until he had no choice but to jump down into the sand. Mama Bird scolded her baby for being rude, but it was so faint I barely noticed.

"Hey Falkner." Whitney came over, having been slightly lagged in the sand and not nearly as graceful as her friend. Unlike Jasmine of course, she had thicker legs beneath her own pair of shorts and a stomach that reflected something of a soft state, not nearly as toned as Jasmine. She wore a pink shirt that cut off above her belly button and tied between her breasts in the tight bow.

"Hey." I smiled wistfully, reaching down to grip the ends of the sweatshirt I wore. I felt suddenly overdressed compared to them, and knew the black tank top I sported underneath would be more appropriate. Not to mention I was wearing the thing backwards—witch I'm sure looked really funny. I pulled it up to my neck quickly, ignoring Zephyr's frustration and took it off.

Today, though humid and showing signs of rain, was not cold. The beach blew in little draft and air that made me shiver, but it wasn't the coldest he had this Autumn—not yet at least.

"Come over here. You can put your stuff down with the rest of ours." Whitney suggested, followed shortly by Bugsy and his Scyther he called "Scythy." The two went on ahead obviously, leaving me and Jasmine and my birds alone.

"I'm so glad you came." Jasmine grinned. "I was beginning to think you weren't."

"Oh well… you know. Turbulence." I teased, turning back to my birds and waving my arms at them. "Go on guys."

Pride took off immediately, off to scope out the defenseless wild pokemon in the area so he could harass and battle them. Jake hunkered down in the sand and looked dramatically back up at me until Mama Bird nudged him encouragingly. Zephyr gave me a cross look, as if to say "You mean them, not me right?" but ended up fallowing his mother anyways.

The four birds flew off together to explore the beach, though knowing where I was easily.

"I can't believe you fly everywhere like that." Jasmine mused, leading me up the beach to where Chuck and Clair were sitting. Whitney and Bugsy had just met up with them and it seemed as though Clair was barking in order of some sort. I scanned the area absent mindedly wondering if Morty decided to back out.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." I told her. "I don't know how you walk everywhere."

She shrugged. "It's not hard when you've never flown before."

I nodded in agreement as we approached the group. They sat on towels and a thick log around a fire pit and cooler. Clair was making Chuck dig inside for her so her hands wouldn't get cold, and was forcing him to hurry up so she could get her precious booze. I almost laughed when Chuck turned and through an ice cube at the dragon trainer, but her rage was too threatening. IF there was anything that I had noticed about Clair from the short time that I had known her, it's that she isn't a bad person, she is just a very dramatic and demanding one. However rude, she was just as bipolar and that meant that when she turned to me and said hello, it was actually genuine.

I said a quick greeting to her as well, happy to know she seemed at ease with me being a gym leader now.

"Props to you." Chuck guffawed suddenly. "Falkner, you're gym is on record for one of the most visited in the region! We just got eh statistics the other day."

I blinked in surprise. "Re—really?"

"Yep. But don't get any ideas!" Bugsy popped the top off of a beer bottle and took a swig. "Mine would be the most visited still if it wasn't for the fact that Team rocket showed up for a while."

"Speaking of which, did they leave?" Whitney asked, sipping a Mike's hard lemonade. I couldn't really believe what I was seeing with this bunch. Everyone except me and Jasmine seemed to be happily sucking alcohol into their system. I flinched as Chuck tossed a bottle of—something I hadn't seen before—at me.

"Yeah." Bugsy went on, rubbing his Scyther on the head. "I guess some red head trainer ran them out of town… or maybe it was someone else. I don't know, but they're gone and the Slowpoke grew their tails back."

"No thanks to you I'm guessing." Clair snorted, kicking her long luxurious legs up and setting her feet against the stump Chuck sat on. She was already a perfect golden tan, but I guess it wasn't enough.

"Hey those trainers are no joke!" Whitney perked up. "I—I got beaten by a red headed boy—I think he was a boy—he had really long dark hair. And then a little later that same day this hot hunk of something came in and wiped me out completely."

"He had dark raven hair huh?" I mused, remembering the two trainers that had swept through my town a little while ago. I had called Jasmine because I was so upset about it at the time.

"Wow… well I guess I've got a lot to prepare for huh?" the steel trainer folded herself in the sand cross legged.

"Unless they decide to go south." Clair barked. "In that case then we should warn Pryce."

"Either way they are heading up to Ecruteak though… so shouldn't we warn Morty first?"

All the eyes turned to me in confusion and slight distaste. I blinked awkwardly, being mid-motion to sit down next to Jasmine and Whitney. I swallowed awkwardly. What did the leaders have against him? For Arceus sake just because he trained ghost pokemon…

"Morty can figure it out himself. You weren't warned when they showed up, and neither was I or Whitney. So who cares?" Bugsy rolled his eyes. "He will probably see the future or something… and he will know they are coming."

"Yeah Falkner, I—I think Morty can handle himself." Jasmine chided nervously.

"The freak doesn't need our help." Clair hissed, leaning over to pop the top on my bottle with a metal opener than was coiled in the shape of a dratini."

It was just then, that I noticed—somewhere out of nowhere—from the corner of my eye, Morty was approaching. Completely unnoticed out in the middle of the open with his eyes glaring—snarling down at the group of us. My heart sank, and for a moment our eyes met, while I clutched at his sweatshirt with one hand, and full bottle in my other. His face resembled some sort of hate. A strong putrid loathing for the gym leaders that so childishly picked on him.

Chuck laughed innocently. "He is a bit of a freak huh?"

"Uhh…" I twitched. "No."

"What?" they all held their attention on me as Morty snuck up on them from behind, fists shaking and eyes sharp.

Whitney gasped then, dropping her drink into the sand and trying to salvage it with little hope. She floundered, making the air smell strongly of tropical juices and making my heart skip a beat.

Jasmine was thunderstruck, frozen in place at my side, her single finger still planted in the sand where she had begun to draw a line. All the eyes turned then, in one swooping movement to look at the ghost that lingered behind them.

Solemn faced and spitting mad Morty turned heel and left, forgetting the beach party, forgetting everything that had anything to do with us gym leaders. My stomach ached for him as I pushed up off the ground in a whir, kicking sand over Clair and Whitney who just stared in confusion. I threw my drink down as well, gritting my teeth. Bugsy looked very small, and Chuck seemed happy to know he hadn't personally insulted the ghost trainer, just merely agreed with the others.

"Falkner…" Jasmine said softly after me, but made no attempt to move as I chased down the lonely soul. For the first time I seemed to realize that Morty was not just antisocial and different like I had thought. I realized, as I caught up to his fluid, stoic steps.

Morty was hurt.


	9. Chapter 9

~Morty~

"LEAVE ME ALONE FALKNER!" I snarled at the innocent navy haired boy who held my jacket with tender hands and a flushed face. He was so cute. So goddamn cute I wanted—I wanted—

"GO AWAY!" I demanded, rounding on his much shorter build. He looked up at me with his wide aqua eyes, trying to look unafraid, but indeed looking very afraid. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't have shown up here today to be ridiculed. If it wasn't for Falkner I wouldn't be feeling this way.

"Morty, come on!" Falkner begged. "I—I'm sorry."

It's not like it was his fault… not in the slightest. He had actually stuck up for me, and here I was taking my anger out on him. With clenched hands and gritted teeth I turned and fled, mentally calling my Gengar to stop Falkner from fallowing me any further. I was spitting orders into the wind while the ghosts nipped at my heels. Places like beaches bothered me because you wouldn't believe how many ghosts wash up onto the shores from the oceans. I couldn't see these ghosts, but I could feel them, everywhere, making my eyes itch and my chest tight.

Gengar lashed out at Falkner gently, manifesting and disappearing as he did so. Falkner was befuddled, shocked at the shadow that threw sand up in his face and made whooping noises. Yellow eyes and lean claws made Falkner gasp and stand back as I made my sweet escape to the docks where no one would follow me.

I didn't glance back to see the group of gym leaders that would have come to Falkner's rescue, and I didn't look back to see if Gengar had actually hurt any of them; I was too disoriented with hate.

I knew from the get go that the other gym leaders didn't particularly like me, but I didn't think they actually made fun of me behind my back. Seeing the future, Bugsy? Please, the only thing I can see coming in the future is kicking your scrawny ass all the way to Unova! And Clair… though I expected as much from someone of her utter repulsion, I couldn't shake the fact that she really meant what she said. The others may have been joking in a way, but she knew—or thought—it was true.

And Jasmine. So sweet, so innocent… so fucking close to sitting on Falkner's lap it disgusted me. I punched a wooden railing as hard as I could on my way up the stairs to the raised dock. Splinters scratched at my knuckles and sent small trickles of blood down my fingers. I barely felt it, or had enough common sense to pull the wood out. I slung myself over the edge of the dock railing where no one could see me, far out above the ocean water and looking back at the sand where the gym leaders stood, fussing over Falkner.

I watched, wondering what else they were saying about me and grinding my teeth in aggravation. Ad Pryce been at this little gathering maybe things would have worked out better, considering he was elderly though, of course the beach was not the place for him. Chuck was too stupid to say anything, though he himself was older in his late thirties and should have made order out of the situation.

I snarled under my breath, muttering things and unsure of how long I would stay like this until I went crazy. Gengar came back to me after a while and despite it all I found the rain a bit too appropriate. It poured, cold and light on my back for a long time, wafting mist around my ears until I had to pull my headband down further to cover them from the cold. None of my ghost pokemon approached me personally, but simply huddled around, unnoticed by the simple eyes of pedestrians racing along the boardwalk.

Minutes ticked away, perhaps hours, quite a long time I thought, before something changed. A very, very large bird swooped in from the sky, and landed roughly on the wooden railing beside me. I jolted in shock, expecting to see Falkner sliding off of it, but finding that the lonesome Pidgeot was far too old to carry anyone on its back.

I recognized it almost immediately. That was Falkner's father's bird. A genuine and loyal creature by nature, with a motherly gaze. Her feathers were faded, graying around her beak, and even missing some in places around her neck and chest. She was soaked—probably from flying higher up in the clouds—and looked about as miserable as I did.

"What do you want?" I whispered as nicely as I could. Regarding this bird rudely would feel like regarding an elder rudely, and that was something I couldn't do.

She approached me cautiously, like a mother would a baby that wasn't hers, and ducked down to look at me straight on. Her pale yellow eyes still gleamed with the youth in which she once battled, and though they looked immensely sad I found that I appreciated it. She inched towards me, ducking her head lower until her sopping wet feathers were pressed up against my cheek. She crooned in my ear, and I didn't need to speak bird to know she was telling me it would be ok.

But would it?

How could a bird know that things would be ok? I stood rigid as she rubbed her soft face over my and then pulled back with an obvious sigh. I could have sworn she was smiling sadly at me. But how could she smile? She was bird, and birds have beaks… not mouths. I blinked; maybe it was her eyes that were smiling. Either way she turned and flew off before I had the chance to study the expression again.

With a thud I let my head fall on the railing, unsure of what I was doing exactly. How obvious was it that I wanted to be here just to see Falkner? I was furious at myself for such emotions of course, but… how could I hide them?

I wasted time now, searching the beach as the group tore up and down together, laughing with their pokemon and then barking orders at each other madly. It was all fun and games for them wasn't it? Falkner looked mild in comparison to the rest of them, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as they approached the water's edge.

It was cold and raining, what the hell did he think he was doing? That boy would get sick and then I would feel sorry for him. I glared as the group entered thigh-deep and beckoned to him. I walked the dock until I was close enough to hear what they were saying, though still twenty feet or so above them.

"Come on Falkner!" Jasmine held her slender hands out to him, trying to get him to take one so that she could lead him in the water.

"No. Wait seriously guys!" Falkner groaned. "Just hand me that feather, please!"

I examined the water carefully, following his eyes until I saw a large silvery feather floating about in the water. The waves washed it back and forth but all in all it stayed just out of Falkner's reach. He looked very distressed.

"You will have to come in and get it yourself!" Chuck blew his arm through the water, completely at ease with the chill of it, and sent a two foot wave at Falkner as a joke. The bird trainer drew back, flinching and hissing as it slapped him in the chest.

"Cut it out!" Falkner snapped. "Can you please just grab me it?"

Clair snorted with laughter, sitting on her Dragonair as if it was a pool float toy. The thing snickered as well, its blue bead glowing faintly. I could see Bugsy looking conflicted, as if he really did want to grab the feather, but wouldn't give the other gym leaders the disappointment in ending their game.

Falkner groaned, eyes locked with Jasmine, who wouldn't budge because she so selfishly wanted to get him in the water. I grit my teeth, willing Falkner to stay on shore

"Sorry Jasmine. But Falkner won't be getting wet like your vagina any time soon." I snarled under my breath before turning to look down at an invisible Gengar. "Go get the feather." I ordered. He snorted at me before slipping silently beneath the docks to go retrieve it.

"Come on Falkner. It's not that cold…" Whitney cooed, though she was shivering herself.

Jasmine held her hand out further, begging for him to take it. Falkner stayed put though, shaking his head stubbornly and taking a step back. I watched the water carefully, seeing as though the silver feather was invisibly grabbed and pulled under. I knew that was Gengar's doing, so I didn't worry, but the disappointment in Falkner's eyes proved painful. He sulked, thinking that the feather was long gone beneath the water's surface.

"It's too cold for me." Falkner's teeth chattered just from being splashed, so that was no lie, but I got the strangest feeling that it wasn't about the waters temperature that made him hesitant.

"Don't be a pidgey!" Bugsy chirped—sounding more like a pidgey himself than he intended to.

"Knock it off!" Falkner glared, obviously not pleased with the bird jokes. Hit a nerve there Bugsy? I scowled, watching the scene as my only friend back up into the dry sand of the beach. "I'm not coming in." he grumbled before turning and heading up the shore, followed by a faithful Jasmine with growlithe eyes.

"Gengaaa…."

I turned then to see the dark shape of my pokemon slipping back up through the dock boards. He brought a single claw up to me, holding the feather by its quill. I took it and examined it quietly, eyes stretching up past the sleek silver surface that was surprisingly hard and smooth. More like steel than a feather. I twisted it and turned it in my fingers, trying to see where it would glisten in the light—had there been any light out right now.

It grew cold and dark quickly in this season, and I found myself back over the wooden railing, hand throbbing from the scratches and my face flushed while I wondered why this feather had been so important. Time started to roll by again, slowly and troublesome while I pictured the Pidgeot's gaze and the way Falkner so easily ignored Jasmine's hand. Was it just luck that he really didn't want to get in the water? Or was it something more? Soon my head was in my arms and I was fighting exhaustion, having trained all through the night—unable to sleep thinking about Falkner actually.

It was hours later when I decided to lift my head again. The rain had stopped and the sun had broken through the clouds to reveal a bloody colored sunset. Purple splashed against the clouds now and a precise rainbow over the horizon made me curl my lip in distaste. I ignored it, looking back at the sandy beach to see the gym leaders' content with each other around a moist looking fire pit. Chuck was trying his hardest to get it lit, but failing miserably. Everyone was wrapped in huge towels now and looking cozy, leaving no space between them.

I stared at the group, inclined forward around a stump in wonder. My eyes narrowed curiously. Green glass spun in a whir over the flat wood before them, rocking and stuttering to the stop in the most obvious of positions. I swore I wanted to vomit when I saw Bugsy lean over and peck Whitney on the cheek.

Spin the bottle.

Fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

~Falkner~

It was eleven o'clock by the time the rest of the gym leaders went home, and I was mentally exhausted, telling Jasmine that I was also going to go home, when in reality I just wanted time to think. I needed to get my thoughts straight… my thoughts and my priorities.

Earlier today I had stopped, three feet from the lapping waves, too scared to move any closer, and I had missed out on the chance of a lifetime. All the gym leaders were there though… looking at me, waiting, beckoning as if they wanted me to enter a watery grave. It was horrible… to know that fear and embarrassment had gotten me stuck in such a state of panic.

A silver wing—the rarest of all bird feathers—had drifted by in the water, and I hadn't been able to convince anyone to grab it for me since they enjoyed my trauma even more. I couldn't tell them I couldn't swim because that was embarrassing, and I couldn't say how rare it was because they would only keep it for themselves. All in all I was hopeless.

The feather had disappeared and I was left to think about it all night long. Even after playing spin the bottle with Jasmine's hand lingering over mine and a delicate kiss she had placed on my cheek burning me… I couldn't focus. Dammit I needed that feather.

Two hours now I had been searching the beach for any signs of that silver item. In pitch blackness with nothing but a single flashlight and the water frightening me as the tide brought it up to my sandals every once in a while. I was shivering, soaked to the bone from late night rain, and coughing terribly. But I needed to find it…

My father would be so disappointed to know that I gave up such a miraculous feather to save me some embarrassment. He would have risked his life had he been there in my place… and I couldn't even budge.

Finally though I had to give up. Eventually I would have to call it quits and admit that that feather could have traveled miles down shore already, and that between the rocks and the sand and the chilly rain I would never find it. Misery crept up to my heart, and long before I wanted to go home I found myself on the docks, overlooking the ocean and the dark grey clouds in the horizon. There was no moon beyond them, and with my birds in their pokeballs to escape the cold, I felt lonelier than ever.

Today had ended up going so wrong when all I wanted was for it to go right. I wanted to be able to go back home happy and healthy, telling myself that making friends was absolutely important in being a gym leader. I would have been much easier to believe with high spirits… but now I felt as though I had done everything wrong. My father always told me work before play, and suddenly it seemed as though I was going behind his back. I knew the truth, and I knew it and I didn't want to admit it… but it was still there. Nagging at my mind and telling me that today should have never happened.

I hid my face in the soaked sleeves of Morty's grey sweatshirt, wishing that I could have given it back to him and at least made THAT right. If anything Morty didn't deserve what was happening, and he deserved his clothes back. I felt so responsible for the things everyone said about him today. Had I not invited Morty he wouldn't have had heard everyone making fun of him.

I cursed softly, wondering if I could do anything to set this right. The next gym leader meeting wasn't for a few weeks and I knew Morty wouldn't be showing up anyways. He had no reason to and I didn't blame him, but it still bothered me. I knew one of these days I would have to go to his gym and personally apologize for what happened today. Of course no one else would do it.

I was shaking and coughing for a long time, wishing I was home but too guilty to move. I knew the rest of the birds in the sanctuary were ok for the night, since I had Mama Bird with me and Jake wouldn't fret over being alone, I would have to rent a hotel room tonight on the shore and fly home tomorrow. It was wretched luck that put me in this position and I wasn't going to fly home on the account of luck either. It was beginning to storm, and Pride—though he could handle it—didn't deserve to fly through that.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I gasped, jolting forward in shock and nearly losing myself over the ledge of the pier. My stomach flipped completely upside down, snarling with a dormant hunger than had me weak. Looming in the midst of the rain was a tall and familiar shape, drenched with painful glare that made me want to curl up in a ball and die.

"Morty I—I" I forced myself to reach for the wet material of his sweatshirt. If there was any chance of me giving it back to him, it was now. It wasn't helping me much anyways.

"Are you crazy?" The ghost trainer snarled. "Look at you! You are soaking wet. Are you trying to die? You ARE suicidal aren't you?"

"No!" I coughed. "Morty I—I'm sorry a—about today. I—I—

"You stood up for me." He finished with a hiss. "I heard you Falkner, you… you…"

I slipped the material of the jacket up over my head and held it out to him. "Here."

"Thank you." He suddenly purred, reaching out to take it.

"Thank you for letting me use it."

"That's not what I meant." He slung the drenched material over the wooden railing and went on as if I hadn't given it to him. "Thank you for sticking up or me today."

I swallowed, teeth clattering. "I—I still feel horrible."

Morty shook his head. Wasn't he fazed by the cold at all?

"I don't want you to feel bad." He insisted. "Falkner… We're friends right?"

I nodded. "Ye—yeah."

"Then can I ask you something?"

"Su—Sure."

"You don't know how to swim."

My heart skipped a beat. What? My mind whirled back to everything that happened today. Surely some of the other gym leaders may be skeptical of me not going in the water, but Morty hadn't even been there! There was no plausible reason to how he could know that I didn't know how to swim. I hid my eyes lamely.

"That's not a question."

"Am I right though?" Morty's eyes gleamed with a sort of pale desire I couldn't escape. I flinched at the way he looked in the blackness of the night.

"I am." Morty agreed with my silent answer. "You need to learn."

"No." I shook my head.

"Oh yes. You're wandering around a beach all by yourself I the middle of the night and you don't know how to swim. If you got dragged into the current or something what would happen? Don't tell me you wouldn't be ok, because I know you wouldn't."

"I don't want to learn how to swim." I shook my head, harder, knowing where this was going already.

"I can teach you."

"I don't want to." I groaned, flushing with embarrassment. It was bad enough Morty knew my secret now; I didn't need him trying to teach me when it was the worst possible time. I wanted nothing to do with the salt water that took my feather.

"Let me teach you." He was purring again, an almost menacing purr that made me shiver. Why was I friends with him again? He never seemed so… creepy until now. Maybe Jasmine and the other leaders where partially right… maybe Morty was strange. Certainly not worthy of being called a freak… but even more different than I had thought.

"No, Morty." I moved to go around, heading for the shore while raindrops battered my head and exposed shoulders.

"Let me at least teach you how not to drowned." He suggested, blocking my path.

"No."

"Yes."

I looked up at him with a stubborn glare, lips perched and my patience wearing quickly. "No, Morty. I do not want to learn how to swim. I don't want you to teach me how not to drowned either. I just want to go home and get dried off a—

"Yes." Morty moved then, in one fluid movement, making me gasp. I barley had chance to see what was happening by the time I was thrown over a solid shoulder, gripped by the back of my legs and being lead forward.

"NO!" I thrashed about in horror as Morty loomed over the docks railing. We were at least a hundred yards from the shore, and a good twenty feet above the lapping ocean waves from below. My heart was thudding in my chest while I tried my hardest to push away from my so called "friend".

"Better hold your breath, bird brain." Morty was unfazed by my shrieking, taking a step onto a cement bench and then to the railing where he stopped and stood, holding me above the water like a psycho. My mind was racing. The other gym leaders were right! He is a freak! I dug my nails into his thick sweater and grit my teeth, wondering why oh why I was his friend and how this happened so fast.

"Fuck you! MORTY!" I cried as he tightened his grip on me and then jumped.

…..

~Morty~

We hit the water with a hard slap, and went down. Sinking, further downward as the waves tugged us forward into the sand that I nearly broke my feet on. The water was deep enough here, but not so deep that I didn't touch the bottom when we landed. I felt Falkner's tender hands ripping at my neck and clawing at my face as he tried to dislodge himself from me, kicking, sending bubbles up in a frantic whir.

What the hell was I thinking? I almost laughed.

What seemed like a very long time was really only a second or so before I found myself and shoved up off the ocean floor. The waves were not heavy enough to be dangerous to someone who knew how to swim, but still strong in their sucking and pulling. I felt like we had gone back and forth twice before reaching the surface.

Falkner was gasping, moaning in despair and coughing madly, but making no attempt to pull away from me now. He sank down to my front and wrapped not just his arms around me, but his legs as well, thoroughly terrified and quivering uncontrollably. I trembled as well, but it was not because of the cold.

"I ha- hate you." Falkner's hand tightened around my neck, digging his nail into the skin and tearing. "Wh—what the fu—fu—fuck were y—you thi—think—thinking?"

I was thinking that I wanted you to have to hold onto me…

"You've got to learn someday!" I tried to pry him away from me.

"Don't tou- touch me!" Falkner demanded in a high pitched voice. "Ta—take—m—me—me ba—back t—to sh—shh—sho—

"Shhh." I cut him off. "Are you going to listen to me or not?"

"N—no."

"It's easy Falkner." I began, though the waves had already pushed us close enough to the shore so that my feet could touch the sand below.

The Navy haired boy was whimpering, terrified and teary eyed from fear. He was unable to control such emotions, and strewn across his face like that I actually felt bad. I had always assumed it was in my nature to scare people, and this was the first time I did so deliberately without feeling bad about it. My heart begun to sink.

"Hey… hey come on." I wrapped my arms tighter around the small of his back. "It's like flying."

He shook his head.

"Haven't you ever heard that Piplup fly in the water?" I murmured. "Think about it. It's not hard. You're legs move in the same motion that your arms do. It's natural even."

Falkner grit his teeth and clutched closer to me. It was a near death grip I couldn't escape, and I loved it, just like that. A selfish desire that had gone far beyond jealousy.

I wanted Falkner to hold onto me for his life. I wanted that shallow affection that he gave Jasmine while she got so much more out of him. She kissed him on the cheek today, and I had made up my mind right then and there. I decided that if Falkner kissed her back I would throw him into the ocean alone, but if he didn't I would teach him how to swim.

And he never kissed her…

"Wh—why a—are yo—you do—doing—th—this to—to me?" Falkner spluttered. "Yo—you wa—want to be fri—f—friends. Frie—ends do—don't try a—an—and drow—drowned ea—each o—other."

"But you're legs are moving." I commented, knowing that it was his knees that were bumping into mine rhythmically. "And the floor is just a few inches lower." I tried to loosen my arms around him.

"Do—DON'T!" Falkner stiffened. "D—don't let me—me go."

Now that's what I wanted to hear…

"You can do it." I whispered. "Swim."

He did not shake his head no this time, but merely opened his eyes—which had been squeezed shut so tight before. I looked up at them lazily, seeing the very faint coloring there and wondering if they were glossy from tears or the ocean water.

"Wha—what if i—I do—don't make it?" he glanced at the shore, which was a good twenty feet away. It was all shallow enough to walk through though.

"As your friend, I won't let you drowned." I could see the wheels starting to turn in his head. His legs stopped for a second, and he was stretching his toes down to find the bottom. His sandals must have been lost in our dramatic landing, but that was the least of my worries.

He took a deep breath as his foot found the ground, the waves lapping at his collar bone and occasionally his cute little chin.

"Yo—you are cra—crazy." Falkner said after a minute on contemplating.

"You don't mean that."

Suddenly something seemed to snap in him then, and at the whisper of my words he drew his arms back and found the ground with both feet. I didn't want to let him go however, I didn't have to since he gripped the material of my sweater and remained very close to me. I could lean forward and kiss his forehead if I wanted to—if I was crazy enough to.

Together we wound up half walking-half swimming up to shore together, ultimately not speaking a word to one another as he used me for support when his knees proved shaky and tired. It took a while, but I enjoyed every splitting second of it until Falkner realized he was only shin-deep and decided to break away from me. He nearly flew up the shore then, out of the water and back into the simple pleasurable rain, still shaking but looking back at me in confusion.

Had all this just happened?

Yes Falkner. Yes. Your shit-out-of-whack friend just took you for a dip in frigid water just so he could hold you… Just so he could feel like maybe, somewhere through the entire trauma you enjoyed yourself too… I almost sighed, ashamed now that I was empty armed and thinking clearly.

"A—are yo—you coming to—to the ne—next meeting?"

I looked up in blatant surprise, seeing as though his face was hard now. He didn't look angry, but more so demanding, like he wasn't fooling around. He flipped back his sopping wet hair to reveal both his eyes, which had me liking my lips carefully. Where had that question even come from?

"No." I shook my head, confused and worried that Falkner was going to block out what happened completely. If anything I wanted Falkner to remember this night as something terrible… rather than nothing at all. I didn't want him to let it go, I felt like he would be letting go of me in a way. "It's the day before Halloween." I finished quietly

Oh Halloween…my favorite holiday. The one day a year where you could be yourself without anyone judging you.

"I—I didn't—thin—think so." Falkner snorted softly and turned, unsure of himself and glancing back twice as he stumbled through the sand towards the street in which a small town lay upon. I got the feeling he thought I was going to stalk him.

"Hey!" I yelled to him, hauling myself forward through the sand.

He stopped and turned once again.

"Thanks again." I said just loud enough so that he could hear me, hoping that maybe he would realize my strange antics as a sign of affection. I couldn't change how I felt about Falkner after today, but I vowed to change how he felt about me. "Thanks for sticking up for me." I repeated louder.

He grimaced, and to my utter amusement—oh the pun—flipped me the bird. However, somewhere beyond the anger and fear and obvious distaste, I could see a strange… humor in his eyes. I smiled wickedly back as the rain fell, watching him go with stinging scratch marks in my neck.

Pain had never felt so good.


	11. Chapter 11

~Falkner~

Sunday. Finally a day where I could close the gym doors and do nothing but think. I needed this more than anything.

A week had gone by since the beach party with the other gym leaders, and I hadn't so much as brought up the things that happened. I pushed them out of my mind as far as I could, flying away from my concerns like the bird I was. I couldn't face the fact that I was utterly embarrassed, angry, and more or less confused than anything. I was… lost.

Angry challengers had demanded rematches throughout the week, seeing as though they were all returning for a badge they couldn't get from the beginning. I recognized a few—a youngster named Joey for one—but most of them just demanded that I lose and give them a badge. Nobody won to my liking, but my birds were worn out. Pride had lost a few clumps of feathers from a nasty electric attack, Jake's foot had to be taped, and a few other of my warriors were down in out completely. So much to the point where I actually took them to the pokemon center—something that I didn't enjoy doing unless of emergency.

At the very least I was happy my personal life wasn't interfering with my battling; this meant that I could continue to work my way up on the gym leader status board in both popularity and strength. Though most of my challengers were young and feverish around here, I was second next to Clair and Pryce on the list of the most wins. However they had not been burdened by the particular redhead and honey eyed raven that were sweeping the region flawlessly.

Word got out that the red headed one was named Silver, though no further information was gathered, I felt the name appropriate to his sober personality. Gold on the other hand—the name of the raven—was a slightly younger, eccentric stud with sharp eyes and brute strength. He was the nations hero at the moment, the one everyone said would go all the way, and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe they were right.

Whitney was the last leader to be swept away by the precious metal duo—though there was no proof the two were actually traveling together—and all week long I kept wondering if they had gotten to Morty yet. Ecruteak was a little further from Goldenrod than the cities in other directions, so they could have taken longer, but certainly not a week's time. I was curious… I wanted to call Morty and ask him…

But that was out of the question.

I sat at my father's grave for the first time since I became gym leader, sweeping orange and red leaves off of it while Zephyr shivered in his own little blanket wrapped in my lap. I took a deep breath, happy for the silence, and just let the Autumn breeze blow over my face. It was colder today than any other days so far this season, and I was feeling the numbness on my sandaled feet already. Time to start wearing shoes again…

I ran my hand over Zephyr's head gently, careful not to mess the blanket from its perfect burrito roll around him, but enjoying the way he accepted my affection (for once). He seemed to be fatigued like I was, only without reason I couldn't understand. The little bird was no fighter, and I couldn't bring myself to try and train him as such. He was my fat little baby bird, and I liked him that way, regardless of strength or speed or agility.

Speaking of which, I was thinking of other ways I could train my new Bravairy. Without success though. I hadn't so much as gotten it out of the pokeball without destruction yet. I was sulking, thinking that I needed to break it in some way or another, but dreading over how.

The only reason I even got it taped and cuffed before was because of Morty…

Morty… how could I possibly go back and ask him for help to break this bird? Sure he would be willing—I think—but he nearly drowned me and I wasn't ready to face him yet. I had been so scared, shaking violently as water chugged up my nose that rainy autumn night. I had actually thought I was going to die for a moment, and then I had been so relieved to know that I was actually safe.

Safe and angry that is. Morty was one hell of a weirdo, and I had no clue why I was thinking about him so much lately. It was as if that night had driven a wedge between us, but the wedge wasn't exactly bad. More like a comfortable middle ground that I wasn't sure I wanted to cross or not. More or less I wasn't sure if we were actually friends, but I wanted to think that we were.

Strange as it was I wanted to be able to call Morty on the phone and ask him how his battles were going. I wanted to be able to go to Ecruteak and have him help me with breaking birds. I wanted… I wanted to see him.

"Dad…" I sighed to the light gray stone that was my father's grave, tracing the pinpoint holes with my fingers and looking up at the pale blue sky. It seemed the clouds had gone in replacement of chilly wind now, which proved to be the theme of October.

"I wish you were here…" I whispered. "I wish you could tell me what to do…"

But of course I knew what my father would say… he would tell me to stop putting my personal feelings in front of the gym. He would tell me that I could have friends with distance, but if they interfered with training or the sanctuary they had to go. I flinched at the thought. No more friends if they interfere….

But what if they aren't interfering with me? What if I'm interfering with them?

Morty wasn't invited to that beach party last weekend, but it was my interfering that got him there. It was me who opened his eyes to the torment of the other gym leaders, and no matter how guilty I felt over it, I knew it wasn't over. I wasn't about to let this go, regardless of if it got me half drowned and traumatized. Morty didn't deserve the things said to him that day, I knew that, and I knew that the other gym leaders didn't know that. So who was to blame here?

The other gym leaders for assuming? A mild crime that we all commit at some point or another. Or is it my fault for butting my way into plans made only for me? I sighed, reaching my hand into my pocket for a thin cell phone that had been on silent for a the majority of the day. I unlocked it quickly and went to see the three messages I had gotten.

The first was from Jasmine, asking me how my week was going.

The second one was from Jasmine—sent right after the first—asking me if I wanted to get lunch sometime next week.

The third one was from Jasmine (what a big surprise), asking me if I was ok and if I was mad at her for some reason. I sighed again.

Strange as it was, I enjoyed Jasmine's company a lot, and it felt good to know someone cared about me, but I was beginning to think maybe the feelings weren't connecting right. It seemed as though after she kissed me on the cheek last weekend, she had lost herself a little further into me. Not to sound cocky, but I knew Jasmine liked me as more than a friend. I knew she was probably trying to play it cool and wait until I asked her out.

It was sad to think that I wouldn't ever be asking Jasmine out, simply because I could never focus on running a gym and a sanctuary while juggling a girlfriend. It just wouldn't work; and even when I thought maybe I could make it work, I realized that it wouldn't. Every time it crossed my mind to ask Jasmine out, I would be brought back down to earth by some forgotten words my father said about dedication and self-importance. He was a trainer of simplicity that man… and how could I be any different?

I knew it was wrong to ignore Jasmine's texts, but I just wasn't feeling up to talking with her right now. Today was my day to do something for me, and thanks to the nagging of my father in my head I was feeling obligated to do something for the sanctuary too. Jasmine couldn't help me with either of those things.

But… Morty could.

I dialed his number swiftly before I lost my nerve, looking away from my father's grave guiltily and curling my cold feet up under my crossed legs. Zephyr hissed at the disturbance.

"Matsuba. What?" Morty barked after it rang three or four times.

"Uh… hey Morty. It's Falkner." I spoke softly. "I—I was wondering if you would be willing to help me break that wild Bravairy today…"

There was a dulling noise on the other end, while nothing but a distant yawn and the sound of material shuffling came.

"If you're busy its fine." I added.

"Oh no. Not at all. Just… sleeping." He breathed.

"Don't worry about it then." I insisted, feeling rather stupid for thinking I could use his ghost pokemon as advantage again.

"Sarcasm, Falkner." Morty yawned again. "When did you want to do it?"

"I'll be making my way up to Ecruteak in just a bit." I pulled my phone down for a sec to look at the time. It was mid day—a mild two thirty—so what was Morty doing sleeping? "Give me an hour and I'll be at that open field from before."

"Mmmn… ok well don't mind me if I'm a little late."

"No problem." I brushed my hair out of my face, slightly happy to hear that no sign of our further argument was brought up. We were friends. Simple. Even if he did nearly drown me. "Thanks! And be sure to bring your creepy little ghosts with you."

"I'll be your creepy little ghost."

"What?"

"Nothing." Morty snorted. "I'll bring them."

The line hung up, just like that.

"Guess he doesn't like goodbyes." I muttered looking back down at my father's grave. I stared for a long moment, taking deep breathes and petting Zephyr gently on the head while he snored softly. I tucked the blanket around him tighter before pulling him up into my arm like a baby and stuffing him in the crook of my elbow. He chirped again, but it was ignored.

"I hope you are proud of me, dad…" I moved to get up, brushing myself off with one hand and turning heel quickly.

"I'm trying my hardest."

…

~Morty~

Suds slipping down the length of my back, trailing, oozing past my thighs and down to the inside of my knees; further to my ankles, lining the black inside of my tub with white bubbles. I watched them go as I showered luxuriously, lathering everything twice and using some tasteful smelling soap that left me fresh and warm. My body was tingling within the wafts of steam and glistening with droplets as I looked at myself in the mirror between foggy glass panels.

I have always thought it should be illegal to put mirrors within view of the shower, seeing as though it only caused for disaster at times like this. I could see my broad pale chest, my lengthy torso stretching down into slender hips with more stomach muscle than one would think. My back was strong and hard, my legs fleeting in length but made up for elsewhere. My neckline was tight, precise and scarred artfully from Arceus knows when. Without my scarf you could see the nicks and scratches of a near perfect paintjob that was my olive tinted skin. Aside from few tiny freckles kissing the small of my back, I was perfect.

Not to sound conceded or anything…

But I was pretty damn perfect in sense of looks. Almost as perfect as Falkner was with his lanky arms and legs, his gently neck line, breakable slender hands, and petite facial features.

I liked my lips at the thought, not trying to push the warm swelling of my privates away, but more so trying to make it a part of today. Unless I decided to go for another ball-chilling swim with Falkner I doubted the lovely hard would go away. I stared at the infatuated body part with slight distaste, wondering if now was the right time to wack off or not.

The clock on the wall read me wrong though, and five minutes wouldn't be enough time to enjoy myself anyways. I dreaded confiding the thing behind a pair of tight jeans, but I knew that was my only option. Who knows, maybe Falkner would notice and take a wack at it himself?

I shook my head, chuckling to myself while I got out and toweled hastily. It was hard to ignore the demanding rod standing at attention before me, but I was a man of façade, and I could do it. I grit my teeth, trying to push Falkner out of my mind while pulling up a pair of dark purple boxers over my moist skin and then forcing my tightest jeans up over my legs.

Belt buckle and all I went on to dry my hair, ruffling it with the towel and enjoying the way it both fell and stuck up. It was unruly as ever, but looked completely yankable. I took a deep breath, knowing that one I day I would make Falkner yank my hair.

Was it bad to be this sexual in the middle of the day? Of course I had only just woken up about twenty minutes ago… but still. I adjusted my uncomfortable crotch before opening the bathroom door and releasing a cloud of steam into the hall where Gengar crawled like a shadow, leaping into the light fixture and making the lit candles sway and dance with wind.

"Come on you." I snapped my fingers at the ghost. "We've got work to do."

Gengar snuffed at my words and bared his wide mouth of dagger teeth, not wanting to go out into the sunlight but knowing he had to. I snapped my fingers at him again while approaching my bedroom.

It was a dark room, accented with candles like the rest of the house but reflecting off the glorious golden metal of my beds frame. The room had a huge window—which I didn't often open—and was covered in long royal purple curtains, which seemed to be my theme around here.

Black, purple, some deep reds, maybe even some burnt orange colors here and there. I was surely the fall season at its best, whereas someone like Whitney would be bright and flustered with hot pinks, baby blues, and mint greens; all colors that I found repulsive. Spring time itself was repulsive. It was flourishing, extravagant, needy in a sense. I hated it and the people of whom it concerned.

Finding a shirt and grabbing my—and Falkner's—sweatshirt was the last thing I did before calling the gym to a halt and saying I was going out. I hadn't bothered to shut the gym down today because—well today had just started for me. I was a night noctowl, battling in odd hours and pissing morning people off on a regular basis.

I grabbed my scarf from the hook beside the door and through it around my neck swiftly, though leaving my headband for another time. I thoroughly believed that dressing bipolarly was important when trying to catch someone's attention. Seeing as though Falkner had only ever seen me with the headband on, I figured taking it off would give him the chance to notice.

My head felt bare without it but hell, I suppose a little hair pulling would make up for it—if I could get Falkner to do that anyways. I smirked evilly at the thought as I locked the gym doors and walked out into the chilly air of Ecruteak.

"Hey!" A hiss of annoyance caught me off guard. "I've been waiting all fucking morning to battle you! You can't just leave now!"

A looked over in surprise, seeing as though some petty redhead was glaring up at me, short in comparison but certainly not short to some others. He had his hands curled up into menacing little balls, and flipping his foxy locks back made me curl my lip.

"Excuse me?" I rounded on him. "I'm the gym leader; I can open hours as I please."

"I demand a battle!" He reached for a pokeball at his waist. "I can't sit around here waiting for the gym leader to do as he is supposed to."

Such spice for a teenager! I rolled my eyes; glad Falkner seemed to be out of that immature stage. "Listen. Do you see a sign on my door? Does it say open eight to ten on Sundays? No. Of course you don't because there isn't one." I growled. "I suggest you come back late tonight if you want to challenge me."

The redhead was fuming now, angrily huffing and puffing about. His silver eyes were harsh and metallic, much like shiny chrome or new rims on a car. I perched my lips as he crossed his arms and turned with a whirl, leaving me in a flustered heat. Obnoxious rude challenger… I took a mental note not to go easy on him later when he returned.

What a downer he was… not to mention his preposterous demands, but my hard was deflated now, unsuccessful in it's wanting. The cold wind that blew didn't help either. I grumbled under my breath, telling myself that Falkner could help. The moment I saw him I was sure it would perk back up and push against the tight material of my jeans.

I looked to the sky in wonder, trying to see through the perfect clear blue and spot anything peculiar. A bird, a plane, a Falkner in particular. My chest tightened while I pictured his pretty little face, thinking that I could contain myself long enough to walk to the open field outside of town and wait for him.

There were so many things I wanted to think about Falkner at the moment, many of them concerning out little midnight swim last weekend, and even more so him sticking up for me when the other gym leaders wanted to bash. I cherished the side of him that had enough honor to do such a thing, but I also wanted to break it.

Any sensible person of my upbringing would say they didn't need anyone's help, and that they could fight their own battles. However of course, I wanted very much to know why Falkner was doing it in the first place. HIS upbringing wouldn't lead him to it. Falkner was an only child, raised by a father that I knew wouldn't take help from ANYONE. The previous gym leader was the most stubborn—and sometimes even selfish—when it came to that kind f thing. So why was Falkner so much different?

I tightened my scarf around my neck smoothly before stuffing my hands in my pockets and making for the outskirts of town. I pictured Falkner's face when it was scared, determined, worried, happy, and mostly what I thought it would look like in a blaze of passion. I bit my lower lip roughly, stuffing my hands in my pockets and breathing in the deep scent of autumn while leaves danced around me in a flurry of orange and red.

Falkner… passionate, hot, steaming like the black tiled bathroom in my house. I flinched in a good way, welcoming the normally unwelcome friend that pushed up against my jeans.


	12. Chapter 12

~Falkner~

One more try. Just one more. I could do it! I knew I could…

Pride veered off, gushing tornados here and there and guiding the angry Bravairy—who I decided to call Renegade due to his constant escaping the cuff—from higher and lower. We wanted to keep the bird in an uncomfortable middle ground, where I couldn't bring quite kill me if I fell off, but was not so close to the ground to where I couldn't stop it if it took a turn for the worst.

Renegade was a nasty bird with a horrible temper. It proved more untrusting and just plain mean than any other bird I had ever known, what with its inevitable screeching and attacking Pride who was tiring quickly. It was a nightmare just trying to get the cuffs on the Bravairy, let along actually make some progress with its training.

Breaking a bird is nothing like breaking another pokemon. It's not only a way of showing dominance at first hand, but it's a way to gain its trust. Birds are fragile creatures in spirit, often using aggression as a way to channel their fear. I knew if I could get the Bravairy to understand that I wasn't going to harm it—simply fly with it—then I knew I could in the end raise a successful pokemon. There had to be a boundary set, and no amount of love and care would set it for this bird.

Renegade had to be broken. It was a process of healing as well, much like going through boot camp so to say. Someone is going to purposefully make your life hell, just so they can help bring you back up again. It was a matter of picking yourself up and dusting yourself off to being something better, and I knew that this bird could be something better.

I repeated the motions my father taught me over and over again in my head. He used to say breaking a bird was mechanical; if you do it right then it can only work. There was no middle ground for him, and I didn't intend to make one for me. I replayed his list in my head one more time.

Step one: cuffs. I had those on and good. Nice and tight this time, especially around Renegade's foot.

Step two: trainer bird. That was a check as well. Pride was my trainer bird, helping light the runway down a better path for the wild creature.

Step three: get in the air. Naturally this was the easiest step, since birds took to the skies on their own. At this point all I have to do is hold on tight.

Step four: grip wings. Now was the tricky part. Trying to control a birds wings wasn't easy, if you pushed or pulled too much a bird could go down without a fight, letting the wind catch in the wrong way. It was a trick procedure I had only done a few times before, and took a lot of strength despite being featherweight.

I wrapped my hands around the balls of Renegades shoulders, tilting them forward so that the bird hadn't much choice but to readjust. It flapped twice, long strokes that put us higher in the air. Pride led us down from that in the same moment, but it was my doing that gathered the speed. We cut through the air with a whistle, making me shiver uncomfortably.

Sweat dewed on my neck as I tried to push the birds shoulder one way.

"LEFT!" I yelled partially to Renegade, partially to Pride who was already swooping in. Feathers whipped me in the face as the Bravairy hadn't the choice but to follow Pride. Its foot tore it back and my head was ripped around like a ragdoll, making me dizzy while two massive creatures of the sky turned on each other.

Renegade lashed out with its talons, grazing Pride's neck as it tried to disorient it; all the while I was digging my hands into the bird's shoulders so tightly I couldn't feel the blood in my hands anymore. Pride didn't deserve to be attacked and it was obvious how hard the Staraptor was trying not fight back. It wanted to very badly… I could see it in his yellow eyes as blood thickened around his tail from a blow.

"Hang in there Pride!" I gasped as Bravairy tore us down into a corkscrew. He was trying to same dirty trick he did the other week. He wanted to throw me into the ground, simple. "HIGHER!" I begged.

But Pride had lost his temper, and rather than flying against Renegade to bring me out of danger, he loosened the slack on its cuff and lashed out with one swift aerial ace. I gasped in shock as Renegade screamed bloody murder and rounded, flapping its wings madly with vicious strokes and spiraling down. Blood spattered me in the face as Pride was struck by a mighty talon, and within seconds I was hurdling towards earth.

Pride tried to release the Bravairy and save me, but it was no use anyways, he wouldn't have gotten the chance. What felt like a lifetime of gravity yanking me down was really only a second—just long enough to pick up full speed—and then I was crashing into the ground.

I yelped a curse as something in my left shoulder popped, but this was not what initially hurt. It was the fact that I had reached out with my hand and collapsed on it. That was more or less the most painful thing, for my pinky and ring finger were cracked backwards and my thumb uncomfortably squashed beneath my side.

The shock however, passed in a second, and I found myself horrified and struck in agony as my shoulder caught up with the rest of me. My head spun a wicked fast and I could feel a bump or two forming. The wind was utterly gone, my stomach heaving as I gasped, trying to figure out which was up and hoping that Pride was ok despite it all. My eyes lolled and my ears were ringing.

"Falkner!" something grabbed me, harshly without mercy, flipping me to what I was sure was my back, though nothing would stay still. "Falkner don't you dare pass out again!"

But everything seemed to be fading anyways, though not from a concussion or anything, it was because of the pain; so powerful I couldn't even moan, let alone form a coherent sentence. Morty's voice was few and far between as the pain heightened, growing in the center of my shoulder and in the end making a tunnel of blackness form around my eyes.

"Hold on." A voice that should have been concerned sounded bothered, and before I knew I caught a glimpse of impulsive violet eyes glimmering down at me. Pain made me tremble as pressure on my shoulder grew. It was seconds—or maybe less—later that a sickening pop sounded, and I knew without actually knowing that Morty had pushed my dislocated shoulder back into place.

The ground disappeared below me then, and while the distance of pain grew longer I couldn't focus. My shoulder and head throbbed, but now I was feeling something stronger in my hand. Broken fingers for sure. My head lolled back limply.

Pride…. Renegade… where were my birds? It was the last thing I could think of before blackness engulfed me.

…

I awaked to the typical sound of monitors in a warm hospital room, flinching as a liquid was pushed through a needle into my arm and a chilly metal pulse reader was on my wrist. I felt as though I had been asleep for only a second, and yet the night sky through the window proved otherwise. It was storming out, judging by the wind blowing rain against the window and leaves up in a whir. The autumn leaves would be soaked and decaying by morning.

"He's busy at the moment." A hushed, aggravated voice sounded from the opposite side of the bed from me. "No… no… I said fucking no!"

Within a moment my cell phone was smacked down on the sheets beside me, hanging up on whoever was calling. Morty slumped tiredly against the foot of my bed, looking up at me with an expression that held more disappointment than anything.

"My—my birds." I choked out, throat dry.

Morty snorted and rolled his eyes. "In their pokeballs in the drawer beside you."

"And Zephyr?"

"Same."

I sighed, enjoying the numbness that came with medicine. It was the feeling you had when you knew you should be in pain but were happy at the moment not to feel it.

"Well it's your lucky day, Falkner you know that?" Morty spoke up after a second, pushing the phone towards me with a smutty look on his face. "Your little girlfriend, Jasmine, thinks I have you held hostage and is threatening to come save you."

"Is that-?" I reached down a bit to pull my phone over to me. I went to pull it forward to flip it open, only to find that my left hand was completely useless. A half assed cast was squeezing my pinky and ring finger together shamefully, and a brace was covering my wrist. I stared at it in disappointment.

"She just called." Morty sighed. "Well, not just now. She called three times since we've been here, but that was the only time I answered."

I groaned softly, a throaty sound of anxiety. Of all things, now Jasmine wanted to know if I was ok? What because I was with Morty? And internal dilemma set in as I thought about her caring for me, or being obsessed with me. Three phone calls just because I wouldn't answer her? I let the phone fall limp against my stomach.

"Did you tell her I was fine?"

Morty peered up at me skeptically, running a hand through his mop of dirty blond hair. "Are you?"

I looked down at my own hand sadly. "Is it broken?"

"Your pink finger is." He nodded. "The ring finger was alright, but you cracked…" he trailed off, standing and leaning over me to touch the braced part of my wrist so gently. His finger felt hot against my clammy skin. "You cracked this part here." He rubbed his finger back and forth across the side of my hand.

"Bad?" I asked. Never before had I broken any bones, but I had always figured it was just a matter of time. Sure enough this wasn't unexpected. I was actually surprised that I hadn't broken my whole arm.

"Not too horrible." The tall blond backed away again. "Doc said you could leave when you woke up and wanted to, but he also instructed no flying on behalf of threat. Guess the grumpy old guy knows Lance, and if he tells Lance then you can be sure the rest of the gym leaders will know, and none of them will so much as let you think about flying another bird."

My heart sank into a black pit of despair. No more flying? I suddenly felt like a bird that had their wings clipped. It was not a pretty sight to those watching, and I knew from experience that if I didn't fill the urge to fly then I would go crazy. An emotion so scared and small struck up inside me that I actually felt tears begin to swell. Through the mix of numbing pain and worry I wiped my eyes shamefully.

Morty was staring at me, partially in wonder and partially in confusion. Must be the drugs they gave me… without a doubt I wasn't this emotional on a regular basis. My heart swelled until I was sniveling, face red with embarrassment. I didn't know what the hell had shattered my defenses, but I knew it hurt terribly. More so than my hand even.

"H—how long?" I blinked away the moisture in my eyes and tried to take a deep breath. Did I look like a child throwing a fit over being grounded? Or did I look like I was just so passionate over flying that I couldn't stand it?

"Just until the brace is off…" Morty couldn't look at me, his face pale and uncomfortable. "You're lucky you can leave the hospital now though…"

"Bu—but I ca—can't fly home." I dreaded walking, knowing that there wasn't enough strength in my achy body for that kind of late night travel. Not to mention the rain and wind was obviously here to stay.

"Come back to my house, just for the night. I—I'll walk you home tomorrow." Morty suggested, still looking at the sheets in front of him. I noticed now just how sickly he looked, nostrils flaring as if the smell of penicillin was making him sick to his stomach. He frowned continuously. "Don't you want to get out of here?"

"I—I think I should stay here tonight." I rubbed my eyes once again, managing to hold back the trickling of tears. "You don't have to do that for me anyways."

"Dammit, Falkner." Morty grit his teeth. "I won't leave you in a hospital alone for the night so please…"

I didn't think Morty had it in himself to beg anyone for anything, but apparently he did. His jaw was set tight, eyes cautious as if he was trying very hard not to look at anything in particular.

"You don't look so good…" I mumbled. "You can go home you know… I don't need you to stay here with me."

He covered his face with his hands and grunted softly. "No… You don't deserve to be in a hospital bed alone… but—but I can't stand it here."

"Morty, really it's ok—

"Come the fuck home with me!" He demanded, flashing his dark lilac eyes at me. "I don't want you here alone because there are more than enough ghosts wandering around. They're up to no good… I can… feel them."

I wondered if now was a good time to tell Morty that just because he could talk to the dead didn't mean I could. I wanted to tell him he was second next to crazy if he thought I would be haunted tonight or something of that vitality. Hundreds of people spent the night in hospital rooms, and it wouldn't be my first time anyways. He should just go home.

"Morty…" I sighed, dreading getting up let alone walking back to his gym. I was about to insist he leave me here, but his face read otherwise. I bit my lower lip. "Fine."

He sighed a breath of fresh air and pushed up from his spot on the bed. "I'll tell the nurse."

…

Morty's house was more familiar than it should have been, and with his sturdy hand leading my wobbly steps to his guest room, I felt almost at once better. Though my clothes were soaked and I was sniffling from the cold, fighting off a sneeze that proved sickness was around the corner. I could always tell when I was about to get a cold or something, and it was moments like this that I hated the most, waiting for it to break through already.

Morty let me change in his black accented bathroom for as long as I needed to, which wasn't actually very long since I couldn't get my sore arm into the sleeve of his shirt he let me barrow. I was cherry red when he finally knocked on the door, assuming as such and offering me help. I refused, making sure that the door was locked before stubbornly trying again on my own. It didn't work, and Morty simply used a spare key to unlock it anyways. Emotionlessly he maneuvered my hand brace through the material, saying that I would be strong enough to do it myself after a good night's sleep.

I was lying in the unused bed, alone in the spare room not sleeping and not counting my blessings. I stared out the window in slight misery. If I couldn't break that damn bird I would never forgive myself. I would feel like a failure and like I let my father down. Dead or not, his disappointment would be the worst punishment; it always had, and always will be.

Zephyr was awake at my side, pecking at my wrist brace carefully, trying to figure out what it was and why it was on me. He would occasionally look up at me with a slight pout in his beady black eyes, and make a noise that said he was not pleased. I sighed.

There was a faint knock on the spare door, careful, hesitant in a way. I almost jumped, wondering if I should keep quiet and act like I was asleep or not. Morty didn't need to do anything else for me tonight.

"I know you are awake." His voice came slow and throaty.

"Come in." I rolled over onto my back, making Zephyr flutter up into the air for a moment before landing on my head. I shook him off instantly as Morty opened the door, shirtless and tousled looking, but holding a tray with cups and dishes on it. He came over slowly, setting it down and perching his lips.

"Last time I made tea and you didn't drink it." Morty mumbled. "So I made hot chocolate this time… and if you don't drink it I will make you."

I narrowed my eyes at him, not remembering him making tea last time I was here but accepting either way because I kind of had a soft spot for sweets anyways. I sat up carefully, using only my right hand and reached out to take the mug.

"And I don't know—do you eat birdseed? Or regular food?" Morty pointed at a shallow bowl of pistachios.

I stared at it in confusion. "That's not… birdseed."

Morty slapped a hand over his face. "You DO eat birdseed?!"

"No!" I shook my head. "I mean, I though you thought that these were birdseed… or something." I reached forward and gripped a nut between my fingers. "Why pistachios anyways?"

He shrugged, leaning over and taking a few of his own. "Why not?"

I watched as he cracked a couple and tossed them back swiftly, eyes low and dark as if he was thinking very seriously about something. Morty always seemed to have that look on his face, that is, when he wasn't grinning evilly.

I stared at the nut in my hand awkwardly, scowling slightly. "You would pick the one thing I can't eat, wouldn't you?"

Morty turned his eyes up at me, though his lips were parting to reveal his shiny white teeth, even in the lowlight they looked bright. And I couldn't help but notice that they seemed to interlock perfectly with the help of ever so slight fangs. Not literally fangs of course, but precise nubs that resembled fangs. He reached forward with a roll of his lavender eyes and curled his larger hand in mine, plucking the nut and squeezing it until it snapped to reveal the inside. He left it in the palm of my hand, while tossing the shell back into the bowl.

I examined the nut for only a second before Zephyr launched himself from over my shoulder, flapping madly and stealing it from the palm of my hand with ease. He flapped off to the edge of the bed, guarding his precious pistachio with his wings.

I sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate and forgetting it completely.

Morty surprised me by laughing, a lighter sound that I hadn't heard before. His eyes still spark deviance but he was happily smiling now, at ease with the world and leaning back to lie on the spare bed, tossing a nut into his mouth and chomping expertly. I wasn't sure what that picture of ease did to me, but I was reminded of something I had wanted to ask Morty a while ago, but never got the chance.

Ever since I had met Morty I was filled with thoughts of him being crazy and a "freak" and things along those ridiculous lines. But I had never acted upon them, even after Morty almost drowned me in the ocean last weekend. He just didn't bother me; in any way at all he was actually… really nice. I didn't understand why the other leaders couldn't see that in him. Just because he did things with a straight face and preferred to keep quiet didn't mean he was weird.

"Morty…" I curled a shelled nut in my fingertips carefully. "H—how come the other gym leaders don't like you?"

His smile faded instantly, retreating back to whatever deep cavern it came from and replaced with a shallow suspicion. He looked at me carefully, trying not to glare but obviously surprised by the question. I waited patiently as he reached out to crack my nut for me.

"I guess is because I'm good at what I do… but I do it differently than them." He murmured after a moment, his hand settled in my palm just long enough for me to realize he should have pulled away. Just as my eyes flashed down to look at it he pulled back.

"I'm not like them, Falkner…" Morty went on. "I don't see things the way they do. And they don't accept that."

I swallowed the barely chewed pistachio harshly. "But—you seem nice enough. I mean, I don't have a problem…"

Morty looked away, smiling sadly. "That's because you're different."

"What?" I cocked my head to the side. No way was I any different than the other leaders. Maybe younger, but in personality I was no different. I had the same desires they did, they same mental state. At least… that's what I thought.

Morty nodded, running a hand through is tousled hair and then shifting upwards until he was sliding off the edge of the bed and making towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked awkwardly. "Hey!"

He peered back at me through the door. "You really should sleep you know, I was going to open the doors of my gym…"

I wasn't about to ask why he wanted to battle so late, I had a feeling it was a story I didn't want to argue with. Either way I stared at the tray of hot chocolate and pistachios pouting.

"I can't crack these nuts myself."

Morty fought a smirk on his face, but his eyes lightened anyways, unable to hide the happiness there but trying. He huffed a laugh and stepped back through the door, closing it behind him and coming back to sit at my side.

"Alright fine." He shook his head. "I'll crack, you eat."


	13. Chapter 13

~Jasmine~

"Falkner! What happened?" I gasped, seeing as though his long hand was braced by something black and hard and Velcro tight. I couldn't believe my eyes, or how promising he looked waiting for me, but more or less it was a shock.

"Oh… It's nothing really." he shrugged, though his eyes betrayed him. "Just an accident while training."

"Hmm." I frowned, feeling sorry for him but not wanting to be pushy and touch it. I could have taken his hand in mine and examined it, but lately I felt as though I was being a pain to him. After all I had called him plenty the other day when he was—apparently—hanging out with Morty. My heart twitched in irritation.

What did Morty have to give Falkner? I didn't understand their friendship but I knew it was truly frustrating. Especially when it seemed Falkner was more willing to spend time with him than me. I could smell a deadly bromance and it was making me sweat.

"When did this happen?" I asked casually, tossing a scarf over my shoulder and wondering how Morty could wear these things. It was sure cold enough for them now, but in the middle of summer? He never seemed fazed, but who knows. He could just be good at hiding unpleasant things.

"A couple days ago." Falkner shrugged, leaning forward to grip a glass of soda that sat in front of him. We were having lunch together in Goldenrod today, and without asking Falkner I had invited Whitney because I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. If he was suspicious of me asking him out then surely Whitney being here would help ease that.

Too bad my erratic best friend was late again. Like the time I was stuck searching the floors of the Goldenrod department store for her because I was worried she got lost or something. Turned out she was just forty five minutes behind and bubbly as ever. I had been fuming at the time, and it was that day that I learned I hated people when they were late.

Regardless of the situation it was a pain. I completely believed that if things like traffic, battles, whatever, could be avoided if given the time. If you have to be somewhere at a certain time and know you are usually late, leave earlier. It's the most simply thing and so many people seem to mess it up.

Luckily though Falkner seemed to be the most punctual guy I had ever met, and that was saying something since most guys didn't seem to so much as glance at a clock when they had to be somewhere.

"You know…" I mused. "I invited Whitney but she isn't… I mean…" I looked around, putting my hand over my face with a sigh. "She's always late."

"Maybe she got caught up in a battle?" Falkner suggested. That could be very well indeed, if it wasn't for the fact that the Goldenrod gym was closed on this particular Wednesday because the Pokeathlon was going on up the route a little ways.

I myself was open today, but decided to allow a sign on the door for good reasoning. Falkner wanted to have lunch today, well I wouldn't make him reschedule. I had a schedule that could bend without breaking easily, since there was so much to do in Olivine aside from battling. Most trainers that passed through found that my absence made for a good trip to the Lighthouse to train.

Speaking of which… the lighthouse pokemon was sick again, and the ships coming for the docks had trouble finding themselves again. There was little light, if any at all on an off day, and no one knew why the Ampharos was having such problems. I had taken to visiting it in the evenings, often staying for hours just to keep it company while it suffered. I didn't know what could cure it, since every potion and berry I tried wasn't working more than a few days.

"You alright?" Falkner asked suddenly, seeing as though my face had fallen. "I'm sure Whitney will show up…"

"Umm… yeah, no your right." I agreed. "I was thinking of something else… there's um, more trouble with the lighthouse pokemon."

"You're kidding?" he looked concerned. "It's still sick?"

"More like sick again." I explained. "Every medicine I have tried only temporarily makes it feel better… and I kind of feel like that's worse."

"Have you tried all natural stuff?" He suggested. "It's hard to find of course, but I don't even give my pokemon regular potions or anything like that. It's just as bit as bad for them as it does good… maybe the lighthouse pokemon just needs something more natural to its body."

I hadn't thought about natural medicines much, seeing as though they are terribly bitter and mostly looked down upon, but this was kind of an emergency so I was willing to consider it. Never did I use natural medicines before… but if they worked for Falkner than I suppose there could be no harm.

"You don't give your pokemon regular potions?" I asked, cocking my head to the side and raising my eyebrow at him.

"Not at all." He stirred his straw through his drink. "I barely take them to the pokemon center. Only when it's something I can't treat on my own."

"You must be good at treating them huh?" I mused.

"Well, birds." He explained. "I wouldn't have the first clue how to treat a steel type like your pokemon."

I laughed. "That's why I have steel types, Falkner. You don't have to treat them because they never get truly damaged… or at least my Steelix has never been damaged before. They are too sturdy."

"Soooorrrry! I'm late I know!" Whitney's high pitched voice cut Falkner off from whatever he was about to say. She slung a bag off her shoulder and pulled out a wicker chair from across from me. She leaned over and hugged my tightly. "Don't hate me, please. I got caught up at the radio tower an—

"Let go." I shoved her off lightly. "It's fine."

She sighed. "Right, right. I know you will just yell at me later… Hi, Falkner!"

"Hey, Whitney how you doing?" He said politely, hiding his braced hand under the table.

"Excellent." My friend smiled cheerily, her slightly overlapping front teeth white and bright. She was confident enough to show her flaws like that. "The gym is going great. I haven't lost a battle since that redheaded kid and the handsome one—his name is Gold right?"

Falkner nodded in agreement. "And the redhead is actually named Silver. I was reading up on them a few days ago, they are the strongest trainers in Johto right now. I guess they are sweeping every gym flawlessly."

"Wow… Well that makes me feel better about losing at least." Whitney curled a piece of her pink hair through her fingertips before turning her attention on the menu in front of her. "Did you guys order already?"

"Just drinks." I said as Falkner took another sip of his. He was of legal age to drink and yet he preferred to order things that wouldn't give him a buzz. Even at that beach party he refused to drink, and I didn't know why. When I first turned eighteen I had went out for drinks with Whitney every weekend, and though I never so much as had a hangover, I knew what it felt like to be tipsy.

"I'm definitely in need of a margarita… or maybe a strawberry daiquiri…" Whitney mused. "Yeah, that's what I want."

We beckoned the waitress over as quickly as we could, scanning the menu and agreeing on what we wanted without question. I was always one for salad topped with some form of poultry, and Falkner was happy to fill a strange Italian need for pasta. Whitney, however took her sweet time, going around the menu twice but not letting the server leave until she gave in and decided on just getting her drink and a side of french-fries. She was weird like that, never truly wanting anything and being completely picky.

The waitress took our menus smoothly, flipping her dark blue hair back flirtatiously; perhaps happy it was in the same range as Falkner's hair. I tried not to glare, though Falkner showed no sign of noticing her existence anyways.

That was one thing I noticed about Falkner. It was the fact that he didn't even notice when girls tried to flirty with him—including me—and if by some chance he did, he never acted on it. Falkner had eyes for no one it seemed, and no matter how determined I was to break that, I just didn't know how. For Arceus sake I had worn the most low cut shirt over the most pushed up bra I had and he never even glanced down to notice it. He was too busy looking me in the eyes with his charming smile. He was blocked off, and yet I was completely locked in.

"So Falkner, how's your gym going?" Whitney asked after a moment. "We don't hear much from you, but I guess no news is good news right?"

Falkner nodded. "It's going great… a little harder to run now that I only have one hand." He sighed, pulling his braced hand up and setting it on the table. "I uh… had a flying accident."

Whitney laughed, to my astonishment, making me elbow her. "I remember one time my Miltank rolled over onto my foot, and I was hobbling around for a week with a cast one. It wasn't broken, just sprained. But I know how you feel."

"Oh yeah?" Falkner mused. "I think my foot wouldn't be as bad as my hand, since at least then I could have the birds fly me everywhere."

"Speaking of which, where is your little friend?" Whitney asked, completely at ease and obviously not seeing my inner turmoil.

"Zephyr?"

"The pidgey right?" I chimed in, determined not to get left out of the conversation.

"Oh… yeah I left him at home." Falkner looked down sheepishly. "He threw a fit but… I didn't want him pecking through my food in a nice place like this."

Falkner seemed completely at ease through the rest of our conversations, asking his own questions here and there but never giving away any secrets. He was… pleasant, what with his tender and polite answers, and that was enough for me. I was beginning to lighten up when our food came, and was happy enough, despite Whitney's eager lapping strawberry daiquiri and getting refills which cost—I'm sure she would make me pay for her.

For a moment everything seemed fine, all until I stabbed a piece of grilled pidgey and without thinking about it, offered some to Falkner. His face turned white with disgust, and though he tried very hard to be polite he couldn't hide the flinch.

"N—no, I don't eat meat…" He spluttered, making my stomach lurch uncomfortably. Even though he didn't say he doesn't eat poultry, I knew what he meant. My appetite vanished instantly. Here I was eating a pokemon he loved so dearly, and more than that I was offering him some.

"Right… sorry." I pushed he piece off my fork and proceeded to stab at the lettuce. It was only natural that Falkner didn't eat birds, for Arceus sake he loved them with all his heart. He must thing I'm inhumane… he must think I'm disgusting. Even Whitney looked thoroughly disappointed in me (she didn't eat meat either).

Falkner forced a smile and said it was ok, but I could tell that I had taken a turn for the worst in his eyes. Our lunch was relatively quite after that, though occasionally him and Whitney would share words or jokes that I couldn't find the joy in. I was sulking, eating around the meat in my dish and acting as if I didn't intend to eat it in the first place. My heart ached in knowing.

I had fallen for Falkner too hard. No one else in the world could have made me feel so lonely at a time like this, and it was all because of my lack of common sense. I kept my eyes down for the longest time; picking through a sunday that Whitney ordered and demanded I share with her for lack of calories. I didn't take more than a bite of it, and that was only after Falkner admitted to having a sweet tooth and reached across to taste it himself.

It wasn't a horrible lunch date—if you can call it a date at all—but I knew it wasn't getting me anywhere. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as we walked out of the restaurant later on. Whitney had waved farewell swiftly, hugging me and patting Falkner on the shoulder before dashing off. The awkwardness was only just starting to set in when I was snagged around the waist.

"Ahh." Falkner nudged me. "Come on, don't look so depressed. I know you didn't mean to."

I looked away with a blush. "I—I know… but still."

"Don't worry about it." Falkner leant down and hugged me. "I'll see you at the next meeting."

My heart ached though, and as he pulled away and left I felt more alone than ever. Falkner didn't hug me in a loving way… he hugged me like we were friends and only friends.

If only I could make him see I wanted to be more than friends.

…

~Morty~

"I know she didn't mean it." Falkner was saying as he swung from an abandoned swing set, hand gripping the metal chains tightly while he swung back and forth slowly so that he wasn't lopsided (he couldn't grip the left chain because of his brace). Autumn leaves were falling all around, dancing, twirling like always in this quaint old town. They looked bright and warm against Falkner's light skin and dark navy hair. His eyes were clouded however, with worry.

"Maybe she thought you liked birds so much you would eat them." I suggested lamely, annoyed that of all things, he was here to talk to me about his little girl-friend problems. I wanted to whack him upside the head and say dicks before chicks.

"That's disgusting." Falkner looked pale. "And just a few moments before she was asking me about Zephyr."

I rolled my eyes, slumping over tiredly into my own chain, wishing that Falkner would get over it already. I could understand his concerns, but in all reality Jasmine was such a simple mind that she didn't know any better. He had no business worrying over her anyways. If it wasn't for the fact that he had come willingly to me, I would have been thoroughly insulted. Did I have THERAPIST written across my forehead? Last I checked I didn't.

"Well maybe there was a subliminal message in her asking you to try it?" I nearly moaned, being bitterly sarcastic. "Maybe in her head she was referring to her vagina."

"Morty." Falkner scolded with narrowed eyes. "Jasmine's not like that."

"Not that you know of."

"Arceus, you sure are in a bad mood today." Falkner set his lips with a curl of distaste.

"You're bitching about something that isn't important." I reached over and grabbed his chain, slinging it sideways so that he spun in a circle. The chain twisted up and then uncoiled with a faster speed. Falkner grunted in annoyance.

"So I'm putting you in a bad mood." Falkner sighed in annoyance.

No… you talking about Jasmine is putting me in a bad mood. "Yep." I agreed. "Well you woke me up too."

"Who sleeps at two in the daytime?" Falkner scoffed.

"Someone that's up all night training." I grumbled. "Ghosts don't particularly like the daylight."

"You're being so mean to me." Falkner pouted. "I decided to stop by to see a friend and all you do is tell me I'm annoying."

"You are annoying." And so sexy…

"See. You're doing it again."

Oh how I want to have sex with you… "I'm not doing anything."

Falkner sighed again, heavier and dramatic.

"You're sexually frustrated aren't you?" I asked reaching out to twirl up his chains again. His slender hand slapped mine away easily.

"No!"

"Yes."

"Stop it Morty. Maybe YOU are sexually frustrated."

I shrugged, clamming up real quick. Of course I was sexually frustrated; I hadn't so much as jacked off since I met Falkner. Every time I wanted to, or even felt remotely horny enough to, I just lost myself to distraction or being angry over him in some way or another. Falkner didn't realize what he was doing to me, and I was thoroughly convinced if we didn't have sex soon my penis would forever be dormant.

Falkner sighed again. "I should be getting home…"

Oh hell Falkner! My semen is getting curdled like old milk! I grit my teeth together. "Your gym open?"

"I will open it when I get back… though there aren't many trainers coming through at this time of year." He got up off the old swing and stretched carefully.

"You probably won't have anyone coming through the winter." I murmured. "I'd offer to walk you home but I think I need more sleep."

And if I was alone with Falkner on the route back to Violet City I would surely rape him.

"It's ok." Falkner dismissed sarcastically. "I would just bitch and be annoying the whole time anyways."

I smirked lazily at him before standing and reaching up to ruffle his feather soft navy hair. "That's right." I agreed. "You would."

He pushed my arm away with mock disappointment. "Will I see you at the meeting?"

"No I already told you, it's the night before Halloween."

He looked mildly disappointed. "Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Why don't you skip a meeting?" I suggested with a wicked grin. "Hang out with me on Halloween, I bet I could show you a good time."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"That's a promise, Falkner."

He thought patiently for a moment, playing with the brace on his hand and twisting his mouth down in contemplation. "Alright fine. But if I miss anything important, it's your fault."

"Excellent." I purred as we made for the street.

"See you later Morty." he said to me as he was going to turn the other way.

Yes… yes Falkner… I will see you later.


	14. Chapter 14

~Morty~

I wanted to visit Falkner, it was as simple as that, but what I got was something much, much worse. Or not so much worse, as it was just plain pitiful. Or maybe I had the wrong words completely, I don't know, I'm no good at describing mutual things.

There are reasons in life for everything, I truly believed that with all of my solemn heart, and one of the most important reasons-or forces of nature I should say—for me, is death. Ever since I was little, for some odd reason I could communicate with it. I could feel it. Death was all around us, and though hard to explain and hard to notice, I was more than welcomed to it.

Ever look yourself in the mirror and see death in your eyes? I have, and it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. Seeing all that pain, though not feeling it and not truly understanding it like I did other ghosts, I could see it in me. I was a ghost with a shell, a body that provided for me and connected me to human beings as well as the ghosts of our afterlife. I was a handler, a therapist to the dead, and at the same time, just some rotten twenty-two year old with a horrible crush on an eighteen year old. And while I was very good at hiding things from the living, I couldn't quite clear my emotions enough for the dead.

The last few days Gengar had been inspecting me, flitting around and nipping at my feet when he thought I needed it most. He was intoned to my feelings, and nevertheless extremely fond of them. Ghosts feed off of energy, and while there was so much pent up energy inside of me, he was thriving. When I suggested to Falkner that he was sexually frustrated I had been dead wrong actually, because it was me who was truly incapable of such release.

It was this confused sexual frustration that lead me to Falkner's doorstep in the autumn rain, the Saturday before Halloween. I knew it was stupid of me to show up here, and I wasn't sure what I planned on doing anyways (which is kind of scary), but I knew I had to see Falkner. I had to glimpse at his pretty face and hope it would be enough for now.

Unfortunately when I wound up on his doorstep my knocking did nothing; the gym was closed with a sign that said "be back soon", only it was dampening from the rain and leaking ink fast. I sighed, wondering where that boy could have gone in such weather, and turned heel to leave in search of him. He always talked about having a sanctuary for the birds out back his gym, so I assumed he must be there, but I wasn't sure I could even get to it.

"Falkner!" I called through the rain. It was pouring harder now, soaking my hair and making my headband slop down into my eyes. I pulled it off and wrapped it around my wrist swiftly, flipping my hair out of my eyes and heading towards the high chain link fence around the side of his gym. I could see from this angle were a huge structure was built in order to give the many birds a place to play and exorcize as well as flock together. It was quite elaborate too, with ropes and bars all about. I couldn't see any birds however.

"Falk-!" I was cut off when something moved above my head, making me jolt back from the fence as if it had electrocuted me.

A glorious, massive bird was perched over my head, feather-drenched from the rain and looking calmly with its pale yellow eyes. It cocked its head to the side at me as I backed away, water dripping from its longest feathers, off the back of its head resembling luxurious hair. I merely swallowed at the familiar form, only surprised to see how stunning it was from below. I waited as it climbed down the fence, holding tight until it could reach the ground in front of me, where standing it was almost my head—at least as tall as Falkner.

"Pidgeot…" I murmured, reaching out to the respective bird, remembering the last time we met in the rain. She had comforted me with just a touch of affection. Pressing her face into the palm of my hand delicately she crooned, a noise that was like a high pitched purr.

"Do you know where Falkner is?" I asked, pushing back the sleek feathers atop her head. She breathed a sigh, closing her eyes and enjoying herself.

It was then that I felt something; a strange tightening in my chest that made my head feel heavy. A shiver crawled up my spine, dancing with heat despite the chilly rain and making me flinch away from the oblivious bird. She looked up at me in concern, though her eyes seemed to flicker. I huffed once, needing a breath of air to clear my head, fore I knew what was already happening.

"You've no business with my son." Walter Hayato, former Violet City gym leader called out to me. A voice of reason behind me, stealing my pent up energy and making me feel sick.

I've felt the presence of many, many ghosts in my day, but never one so powerful as Falkner's father. A man who died of illness at a middle age, living life every single day as it was meant to be lived. He loved what he did, he was a man of pride and strength, and I never ever questioned that. However now the hostility in his unheard voice cut me like a knife. I couldn't turn to look at him, but held his beloved Pidgeot's face in my hands.

Falkner hadn't seen his father in over a year, and he never again would, so it felt utterly wrong to turn and face a man of such stature. He was right anyways, I had no business with his son, and yet I was completely infatuated by him. I couldn't turn away.

"Morty Matsuba." Walter Hayato spoke my name with such severity, stealing my precious gift and making it painful. "I suggest you leave my son to do his job."

However respectable I was, I could not let that get the better of me. "I don't know what you're talking about." I lied between my teeth, still not turning to face the presence behind me. Pidgeot looked to me in confusion again, worried and cursed with such normality. She couldn't see her previous aster though he was right there… and he could see her.

"I can feel it too." Walter spoke a whisper in my ear. "You think I don't see how you feel towards my boy? You think I can't tell that you're, waiting to get off on him? You've got pent up energy Morty, it's a shame!"

"I—I haven't done anything wrong." I hung my head, staring into the pale eyes of his Pidgeot while he spoke. Buttery yellow pools of confliction looking up at me, lined in drops of rain that resembled tears.

"Not yet." Walter hissed. "And you won't."

I nodded.

"Because you are going to leave my son alone."

My stomach lurched furiously back. "I thought you liked me?" All those times Walter had given me passing glances at those meetings before he died… I had only known him about a year, and yet it seemed like we went further back. Falkner had even said himself, the very first day I met him, that his father liked me.

"I liked you being a quiet and respectable ghost trainer… Not a perverted faggot."

Furious I whirled, startling Pidgeot into the fence and clenching my fists together so angrily and full of hate. "You fucking-!"

"Morty!" Falkner's hands went up in surprise, bracing himself for the wrath in which my jaw was set on. My face was hot and I was breathing heavily, looking for the ghost that dared torment my sexuality. No one knew, and yet Walker—like other ghosts—could feed off of it. He felt it… he felt the lust I have for his son.

Falkner… his son… who was sopping wet and clutching his chest where little Zephyr hid from the rain, angry that it was soaked through his shirt and jacket.

"Morty, what are you doing?" Falkner asked me in a whisper, reaching out to his father's Pidgeot in worry. "Is she ok?"

The mother bird pecked his hand away, seemingly asking him the same question towards him, while her eyes stayed fixated on me. She was worried for my health; I could see that, I could hear it in her panicky chirp as well.

"I—I—

I could hardly contain myself. Standing in the rain soaking wet was the legendary bird trainer himself, Walter, looking down at me with his slender face rough with age. He was untouched by such a rain, looking dry through even the heaviest downpour, in an old blue and white robe that reminded me of a martial artist. He had much shorter hair than Falkner did, but it was the same navy blue in color, bright in the rain despite the inky mop on Falkner now.

My heart about leapt from my chest.

I was staring at Falkner's father, a manifestation so powerful that it brought on actions I couldn't help. I shivered as hot, salty tears slid down my face. I was not sad, nor was I actually crying on my own. It was that damn energy, picking me up and tossing me around and planting a needle inside my heart while I was defenseless, glued to the muddy floor while Falkner stared at me in worry. If he had any clue who I was looking at right now…

At that moment I knew I could hurt Falkner very badly by telling him that his father was still here with him. I could scar Falkner in many ways with those words, and yet it was exactly what I should have said at that point. He deserved to know his father was still here, protecting him… holding him back.

Walter didn't want his son to do much anything besides care for the birds and run the gym. He didn't want Falkner to have relationships that interfered with that, and my heart was in my throat. Would Falkner ever realize just how large a seed was planted in his head when his father died? Falkner was innocent, oblivious to the way his father had twisted his path for him all his life. Some would call it strict parenting, I called it being bound and constricted.

I could see the truth in his Walker's eyes as I stared out into the empty rain above Falkner's head. They were grey and powerful, telling the truth that his son would never know. Walker Hayato was selfish, a man of dignity or pride, things he bestowed on his much softer son. It was a heavy burden, and to make things worse his son had never even noticed. He did not see the truth in those grey eyes before they passed. But I could…

"Morty… w—what are you looking at?" Falkner's voice was a muffle in the back of my mind. He could turn and look all he wanted, but while his father stared him in the eyes, he could not return the favor. Falkner was oblivious; innocent… his heart was not one of battle like his fathers.

I turned then, horrified with the unbearable energy, paranoid and completely shaken by the ghost of his father. Before I knew it I was rushing away, splashing through the puddles and the mud and panting and sobbing uncontrollably though I was not sad in the slightest.

I was angry and not in control. My eyes were wide and yet the tears wouldn't stop until I was far, far away from that gym property. So far that the town of Violet was growing small in my peripheral vision and the ghost of Walter Hayato was long gone. I ran until the presence was gone, halfway to Ecruteak and gasping for air before I stopped, weak and worn without energy. I stumbled through the path until a sturdy tree smelling of sap could catch me. I curled up under it shaking, thinking about what had just happened and what I had just seen.

The boy in which I was so infatuated with was being used… well not so much used as being put up to high expectation. How could he fulfill his father's past when he was in constant turmoil? He didn't have it in him… he wasn't like his father, and yet he tried with every piece of his belonging to be that man. I through my hands over my face in frustration, so angry that someone would set their own son up for such disaster. Of all people a bird trainer should be against that kind of pressure. The restraints he put on his son… he wasn't even living and it was still affecting him.

Walter Hayato had clipped his own son's wings…


	15. Chapter 15

~Falkner~

It was finally Halloween, the night after the meeting I didn't attend and numerous angry texts from Jasmine later. She hadn't taken kindly to my skipping out, and seemed to be even more upset when I told her me and Morty were hanging out. She stopped talking to me then, but I just shrugged it off and hoped she was just bitter because of her girly problems.

I woke up early in Morty's spare room, being an early bird because I truly believed I would get the worm that way. After spending the night here to reduce time today, I felt refreshed and ready for whatever plans Morty had for Halloween. Though stiff handed and annoyed with my brace, I was still eager. The morning sunlight coming in from the huge windows that I had uncovered felt good, very good, warm even, showing a slight relapse from the chilly autumn air lately. I breathed it in selfishly, bathing my face and smiling.

Maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween, or maybe it was because I was happy to have the day off from my gym, but either way things felt right. It seemed today was going to be a good day.

"Come on lazy bird." I poked Zephyr in the stomach, making him jolt upright in shock, chattering angrily and shaking out his ruffled feathers. He had a tendency to sleep on his back with his feet up in the air as if he was dead, rather than curled up like a normal bird. It took my countless times of worry to realize that he never was dead, and I was only worrying myself over nothing.

I held my hand out to the grumpy pidgey and waited for him to climb up to my shoulder, pecking at my brace along the way. He had a serious distaste for the thing—even more so than I did—and every time he had to go near it he would peck as if it would fight back. I rolled my eyes and headed for the bedroom door.

Morty was no morning person like me, so I expected him to be asleep when I got up, and therefore wasn't paying any attention to the fact that an obvious amount of steam was flitting out from underneath the bathroom door. I rubbed the exhaustion from my face and reached out to the door without thinking, slipping my hand over the black knob and twisting it quickly.

I broke off mid yawn, yelping in shock as a stark naked body appeared before me, gripping the door but not closing it in my face like I expected. Morty hid his front from my view against the door, however the foggy mirror was not so kind. I shouldn't have looked, but who ever stops and thinks about what they shouldn't do in a situation like that? My eyes flickered to his ass in the mirror before I shook myself, squealing an apology and backing away. Zephyr, having been shocked at the sudden outburst, shit in panic, and left a trail down my bare back.

The door shut loudly then, and I stood in the hallway completely befuddled, trying to get the image out of my head and arching my back as hot slime rolled past my shoulder blade. Zephyr pecked me in the side of my head, as if it was my fault.

"Dammit Zephyr!" I turned in a hurry, heading for the kitchen where I could wash the bird shit off my shoulder. This wasn't the first—and surely not the last— time that I had been crapped on, but it was still unpleasant, something I never got used to, especially when it was on my bare skin.

I nearly rolled the pidgey away from me once in the kitchen, making him flutter and knock over a salt shaker on the counter while I scrambled for paper towels.

I grunted, not being superstitious at all, but somehow knowing in the back of my head that Morty would be. Great… fucking great.

I reached around uncomfortably, unable to reach the trail on my shoulder with my right hand and surely not able to with my braced left one. I groaned in frustration, wondering how long Morty would be before I could take a shower myself. I hunched over, flipping the salt upright and flopping against the counter in defeat. I thought today was going to go right… it seemed so bright and sunny until I walked out of that spare bedroom.

"I can't believe you, Zephyr." I shooed him away from where he was pecking at the tiny salt crystals that had spilled. I wet the paper towel intended for my back and wiped that up swiftly. It wasn't a lot, but enough to be noticed.

Zephyr attacked my brace as I worked, squealing and squeaking at it, trying to spar with it as my hand moved back and forth until I covered my face in my hands and leaned over with a sigh. He tweaked his head to the side then and looked up at me as if nothing happened, and I was upset for some other reason than having just walked in on Morty and got shit on. At the very least I could say at least I didn't piss myself.

"There's bird shit on your back." Morty's unfazed voice made me flinch.

"I noticed." I didn't turn to look at him while I grumbled. "Sorry about that…"

"Eh, it's not like you've never seen ass before right?" Morty surprised me by chuckling darkly. "You can go use the shower if you want. But don't leave that little thing out."

Zephyr caught the remark "little thing" and glared in response, beady eyes narrowing suspiciously. Some look that said "bitch ill peck your eyes out". I flicked the bird on the tail and then hoisted him up onto my hand.

"Yeah I won't." I told Morty, turning and heading back the other way.

"Happy Halloween!" Morty called after me, a strange lightness to his voice. I figured on any other day of the year he would have punched me in the head for walking in on him in the bathroom, but since today was his day he was of high spirits. Even up early for preparations I assumed while putting a very angry, spoiled rotten pidgey back into a pokeball engraved with a Z.

I showered hastily, letting the hard—much harder than my—water pressure pound me in the back until no trace of shit was left. I invited myself to use his body wash and shampoo before rinsing thoroughly and taking a moment for myself, willing the bad luck of a spilt salt shaker to go away (even though I didn't believe in superstition). Today would be a good day, I was determined to make it as such.

I towel dried my hair gently, afraid that if I tore through it quickly I would stick up all day long and refuse to lie flat. Dressing quickly and looking at the time on my phone I was struck with yet another message, though luckily this time it was not from Jasmine. Part of me felt guilty for having upset her about not attending the meeting, but another part of me was relieved she wasn't still messaging me. Girls were so… uptight.

To Morty

From Whitney: Happy Halloweeeeeeeen! :D

I typed back a quick response and set the phone back on the counter with a sigh, reaching down and buttoning my jeans to finish the image completely. I ran my un-braced hand through my hair and fluffed it up a bit underneath before being satisfied. There was the lingering smell of Morty on me however, and I surprised myself by sniffing at a damp lock of my hair. This was the first time I actually realized how simply good he smelt, though didn't focus long on it. I turned and reached out to the door with a huff.

It… was open?

My hand lingered above the knob in confusion. I had shut AND locked it, so how could there be a most defined space between the wall and the door? I bit my lip in worry. What the hell? I shook myself. This WAS the home of many ghosts… perhaps they had unlocked the door and opened it… yeah. Yeah that was it. I made sure to convince myself that was all it was before opening it and stepping out into the hallway.

Just a ghost… I swallowed, suddenly feeling very cold.

…

~Morty~

"What the fuck is that?" I could hardly believe my eyes. "Tell me—please, just… tell that isn't a costume for your bird."

Falkner pouted back at me, his lower lip jutting out ever so slightly. He was… dammit…. He was so cute. Wearing a flight suit complete with tight pants, black sleeveless shirt, and brown scarf wrapped and tossed tightly over his back. He had big square goggles atop his head, one gloved hand (one braced), and clunky boots that kept scuffing my redwood flooring. He was the definition of a child's Halloween. He had the costume, the atmosphere of innocents, even the desire to hand out candy to kids that dare approach the gym.

I sighed, facepalming as he buckled a pair of miniature goggles around Zephyr's head. The bird was already miserable due to the scarf around its neck, and I actually felt sorry for it for a split second.

"Falkner…." I groaned. "This ISNT what Halloween is about."

He pierced me with those aqua eyes, obviously upset that I had been picking on him. His face was red, flushed because I had embarrassed him and his costume. For a second I thought he might turn around and hit me, but what fun that would be…

"Then what is it about Morty?" He turned, folding his arms across his flat chest and glaring up at me.

"It's about the dead!" I said exasperated. Of course he couldn't see it… but ever soulless creature out there was thriving at the moment, glorified under the full moon, raking havoc on the living through the wind. Halloween was the dead's party. It was the single most exuberating night of their afterlife, and there was no way I was going to let Falkner go out looking like—fuck… I had to tear my eyes away.

"You don't realize it Falkner do you?" I hissed. "I didn't ask you to come so that we could play dress up. No, I don't do that shit. I asked you to come because I wanted to bring you to see what Halloween was really all about."

His narrow lips turned down into a frown. "I just don't see why you are so against this." He didn't gesture to his ridiculous outfit but it was obvious that's what he meant. "It's not even a real Halloween costume… I could have worn this on any day."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"This was my father's you know…"

Flinching I remembered the vivid apparition that had come to me a few days prior to this night. Walter had come to me with harassment, saying that I had to leave his son alone because he couldn't be "distracted", but I wasn't so dull as to believe him. His real reason for wanting me away was because I was a guy, and Walter did not think kindly of my obsession with his son. The old dead man was prejudice to me because I liked his son… because he had a problem with gays.

I was hardly gay though… I wasn't human enough to be gay. I was simply… infatuated with Falkner. Not because he was a guy or had a dick, but because he accepted me for being the way I was. Falkner had given me the time of day, stuck up for me, and became my friend and his father wanted to take that all away from me; from him!

But what was even more sickening was the fact that I was so strung up on petty little traditions and holidays like this that I was actually hurting Falkner's feelings.

I took a long shaky breath, feeling heartless for the moment. "I'm sorry."

Falkner just looked away, eyes lightening slightly. "Well what did you have in mind anyways?"

I shook myself free of thought, back to reality and death and ghosts on Halloween night, rather than Walter and his son Falkner being so damn adorable I couldn't control myself. I'd been fighting hard all day, and just when I thought maybe I could wack it all off this morning, Falkner was done taking his shower and came out. My chest was tight from the thought.

Fakner naked was something that I had seen today, and I was loathing myself for being such a pervert, but really the invitation had been strewn out in front of me. One of my gastly had cracked the door to the bathroom, and Falkner didn't notice as I crouched, barely looking through the crack, at all the contours of his smooth stomach. He had a more pleasant skin tone than me, but was cursed with numerous summer tan lines that I found slightly arousing. His toned legs, long and lean shoulders, slender neck, narrow jaw, perfect rounded eyes… Arceus what was I thinking?

"W—we're going to the tower." I ignored my sexual organs, twitching, tightening with such desire. This was completely ridiculous, it was Halloweeen! Why should I be focused on him?

"The tower?" Falkner asked curiously.

"Yes… the Brass Tower." I explained. "Not the Bell Tower, the smaller one… It's full of ghosts. Haunted by both pokemon and people…"

Falkner looked to be worrying, his eyes straining with effort, probably wondering how I could talk about the dead so easily. Truth was I adored the Brass Tower, it was my sanctuary. It was the place I withdrew myself to train in the latest hours of the nights, when the spirits arose groggily to fight one another. It was a damned place, one of hell and misfortune, but it suited someone like me. I appreciated the dead… I appreciated their will to live once again without a body. It was an inner strength none the less.

"What?" I asked Falkner, looking at him carefully. "Scared?"

He bit his lower lip. "Not scared… but won't that be pointless… for me at least? I mean, I can't see ghosts like you can."

He really was something that boy… I shook my head, smirking softly. "You may not be able to see them or communicate with them, but you will feel them. Especially tonight."

He looked to be even more distressed. "Are they dangerous?"

"Not tonight they're not." I explained. "Halloween is their celebration, they won't want to fight… and I will have my ghosts with me so they won't attack us."

Falkner twitched uncomfortably. "Oh… alright then…"

I grinned evilly. "Don't worry; I'll protect you from the big bad ghosts."


	16. Chapter 16

~Morty~

Ghouls and ghosts and apparitions and manifestations, and whatever the hell you wanted to call them danced like the wind, laughing, screeching howling into the night of the abandoned training tower. It was still sturdy as ever, merely replaced due to mischievous activity and loitering in previous years. It was built over one hundred and fifty years ago, and on some floors even the furniture hadn't been removed. It was tall, but not nearly as tall as the new Bell Tower that demanded all the forlorn attention around here.

The Bell Tower was built a mere ten years ago, to replace the greatness that once was this cobweb infested ghost sanctuary. People couldn't handle the activity that went on after a century or so of death in this very tower. It was such a high feeling, like you were on drugs when you walked in the door… and no one could handle it.

Sight was one of the most privileged of all senses. It was luxury, something none of us really needed, but claimed as much. Only sight was something much more to me than it was to others. I knew how precious a sense it was, since I could now bathe myself in the midst of the black fog dashing from wall to wall, hollering, hooting, making my eyes loll back in my head with such a feeling. If I could describe it in one word, it would be "ghostgasm". I just couldn't contain the energy.

"Mmmmnnn." I moaned, stepping on the old wooden flooring, which was covered in years of sand and dust from being abandoned. Falkner was very close to me, standing behind my back with his little Pidgey tucked away in his flight jacket. The thing still had its goggles over its head and the scarf around its neck, which was a look I would have to say looked better on Falkner.

"What is it?" Falkner whispered, oblivious to the numerous heads it turned in his direction. Foul images of rotted out faces, beautiful women that were murdered in bathtubs, pokemon… oh endless pokemon souls curious to know just who was here to watch. They knew Falkner couldn't see them, but they all respected me for who I was. I stared them all in the eyes, one by one breathing in the smell of years. It was cigar smoke, tar, whiskey, farmer's sweat, piss, and everything else that went along with the ways of life up to one hundred and fifty years ago. This place was soiled with the wealthy, sought out by the cowboys, abandoned by drug cartels, everything you could imagine happened here at some point in time. Murder, rape, suicide… it all stuck to high heavens and I enjoyed every dead second of it.

"They're looking at you." I whispered to Falkner.

"W—what?" he stepped closer to me, indeed scared now, though he would never admit it. All he could see was a perfectly vacant old tower.

"Do you hear it?" I wondered, stretching me ears to the sound of an old record player, moaning to life at the hand of some woman in a long gown. Her pale chest was ripped open while she revealed the song she once listened to with her husband who had murdered her. Her faithful Persian was at her side, stabbed to death by the same drunk man, but trying to protect her even in the afterlife. I knew the song well, the story even better, and due to countless times meeting the woman here, I knew that her name was Elli. I researched her after a while to discover her past, but never uncovered it to her that I knew.

So many spirits were here, all with their own stories to tell and no one to listen except me. Maybe that was what I liked about the dead so much… the fact that they listened and talked and never knew I was different. I felt like being around them meant being around people like me. With a soft smile I raised my hand and waved at Elli, eyes focused on her pale brown ones, rather than the gaping hole in her chest.

Falkner was shaking beside me. "Wh—who are yo—you…"

"Calm down." I told Falkner as Elli waved a sad hello back at me. "No one here wants to hurt us."

"I—I don't know if I can handle this, Morty… I feel like I have bugs crawling all over me."

"Ignore it." I stepped forward. "That's just energy."

"Where are you going?!" He reached out and gripped the back of my jacket. Little did he notice a wild haunter slipped right before him, pausing to breathe down his neck as he walked by. I couldn't help but smirk as his grip tightened on my clothing.

"I want to take you to the roof." I told him, reaching out to touch the energy of a small child with a voltorb in its lap. It stuck its little plump hand up to me, smiling as it realized I could feel it, as it could feel me. Of course there was no solid form to his little fingers, but just a high pulsing in my heart that told me the mass I felt and saw was connecting to me. The child grinned a cotton candy grin as spittle dripped out the corner of its mouth. Poisoned with candy because its mother was unable to love a child that was hers by rape… how sad.

Falkner's eyes followed mine everywhere they went, straining to see the nothing that appeared before him. I wished I could make him see it… I wished for a moment that I could share this world of mine, and then canceled the thought.

If Falkner could see ghosts like me, then he would see his father and know that he did not accept me. Walter would tell his son not to hang out with me, and then my chances—my only living friend—would be gone.

"What's at the roof?" Falkner asked, still gripping me. "I feel dizzy…"

"It's all in your head."

"How can you say that?"

"Shhh. Quit drawing attention to yourself. Don't disturb them." I insisted as we approached the staircase as the furthest end of the lobby. This tower had undergone the changes of being accommodated for a small but luxurious hotel in its prime, however later used for battling and training it was hard to tell just what you were walking through. I knew the second floor was used for parties, which meant it would smell of alcohol once we got up there, and the third would be littered by moaning sex noises and screams, however it was the fourth floor—the roof—that I wanted to get to.

Falkner could hardly contain himself as ghost pokemon nipped at his heels, making him flinch and that Pidgey grumble angrily. Zephyr couldn't see nor feel these ghosts. It was even more sightless to the dead than Falkner was, and so all it thought was that its master was having some sort of attack. I watched as the little pilot dressed bird hissed at Falkner.

"There may some birds here." I whispered after a moment of climbing squealing stairs. Each and every one screeched to life under our feet. The ghosts shied away from the noise and vanished beneath the stairwells for a later time.

"B—birds?" Falkner perked up. "You mean… dead?"

Zephyr's head popped up suspiciously at the word.

I nodded. "Last I remember… a family of Noctowl and hoothoot…"

"I—I won't see them will I?"

"No… why?"

"I—I don't know… I thought maybe because I train birds…I'd be closer to them."

"Don't flatter yourself." I teased as we stepped up onto the second floor. This one was loud and erratic, full of booze like I expected. Men in suits playing pool over a bet, drinking whiskey and throwing barstools around like ragdolls. All these people… stuck in the actions of their death. None of them could leave this very resting place, and when it was Halloween they all had a strange surge of energy that allowed them to haunt.

"It smells…" Falkner observed. "Wh—why?"

I didn't answer him since the question was stupid. Obviously there was a bar up here. "You're imagination isn't very good is it?" I asked as a picture on the wall across from us was struck with a shallow ithunk/i.

Falkner leapt out of his skin, nearly, knocking into me and gripping my sides as if he was really did want me to protect him. I grinned, having not expected this to be another night like that one of the nuts… but hell I wasn't complaining. If scaring Falkner was going to get him closer to me then I was all for it.

"What… . ." Falkner nearly clawed through my shirt, too frightened to worry about being gay at the moment. I loved it.

"Bar fight." I shrugged lightly, reaching back to grip him by the arm. "Come on, we've not business being here."

"We've got no business being anywhere in here!" Falkner hissed, trying his hardest to take a step away from me. He must be trying to look brave, despite himself. I knew he was just as skittish as a bird though.

"Wait until you see the view at the top." I encouraged. "Only one more floor."

He bit his lip and followed me bravely, quiet and solemn and wishing he could have stayed home and passed out candy like a good little gym leader should. I wondered briefly what Jasmine was doing right now… probably out with Whitney somewhere getting drunk off of free ladies night at a bar. Whitney would be in her cupid costume from last year, telling her all about how she would strike Falkner with one of her arrows and make him fall in love with her. All the while her voice would be slurred and they would take turns holding each other's hair back while they vomited all night long.

Smiling at the idea was mean, I admit, but it was too fun a picture in my head anyways. Jasmine alone and drowning her sorrows in fruity little drinks because Falkner was out with me was just too good to be true. Her perfection only went as far as her heart after all.

I assumed Bugsy and Chuck were watching cheesy horror movies at the moment, and Clair was probably frightening little children that came up her doorstep just for fun. She might have a chainsaw in her hand, or a bat, and she would chase them back down into the street with her Dragonair snaking behind her spouting clue flames. Lance would get word of it and come scold her—only to be scolded by Pryce for not doing it sooner.

None of them would be having as much fun as I was tonight though… none of them would get to see Falkner in his flight suit, while looking totally appropriate for Halloween, he looked rather handsome and… just plain sexy if I do say so myself. Sure I gave him a hard time about it before… but that was only because I was surprised and acting selfish.

We came to the third floor quickly, which was a breath of fresh air for the pilot beside me. The spirits up here were tucked away into the few rooms having wild, ghost sex with each other. Their cries only reached about as far as my ears and none of the creepy photographs would be moving any time soon. Falkner sighed, walking a little more peacefully without clutching my shirt. Zephyr relaxed when he did so as well.

"It feels better up here…" He commented in a whisper. The silence was deadly to his ears.

"I personally like the energy." I stated. It was nothing like the exhausting trauma his father had bestowed on me a few days ago. The energy here was all their own, wild and exuberant, not dramatic and sucking.

"I don't know how you do it." Falkner mused, and for a split second I was sure his eyes flashed in awe. He was… impressed? With me?

"It's completely normal for me…" I told him as we came to the last set of stairs. It was a much shorter climb up, with a wall that you had to watch out for and the ceiling which closed in on you. "Go ahead first." I suggested. "Just turn the latch and you will be able to push it open."

The navy haired boy nodded to me without another word and started to make his way up, me right behind him watching the way his ass moved in those tight pants. I snorted under my breath, wishing that he wasn't so attractive to me, but knowing that no normal guy should have such round cheeks as he did. He was something else… a reincarnation of a male model maybe.

"It's kind of stuck." Falkner grunted, shoving the latch as best he could while dust showered over his head. It was hard to see in here, despite the holes in the roof letting in moonlight.

"Pushing it to the left?"

He stopped for a second and then tried again the other way. A stubborn click sounded. "No."

I laughed softly at his silly mistake, being sure to give him space before he decided to kick me in the head with those clunky steel toe boots of his.

"Jerk." He muttered, climbing and hauling himself up onto the roof of the Brass Tower. I followed quickly, pulling myself up and fixing my scarf before standing next to him.

The whole town of Ecruteak could be seen from here, ever house light and ever child running around with pillow cases of candy they had collected. You could see the stars in the dark blue sky, the monstrous moon that glowed with much exuberance, and the ever so slight ridge of the mountains in the distance. Everything was beautiful from here, but for me, it was not the obvious that had my heart afloat.

I could see and feel the spirit of the town as ghosts wandered aimlessly, stalking children as if they were playing a one sided game. I could sense them all around me, and under my feet in this very tower was their sanctuary. I stood atop it like a god, embracing the smells of the chilly autumn air and knowing that never before now did I think I would get to share this moment with someone other than myself.

Falkner was with me, appreciating he beauty of wind in the trees and the smell of campfires in the distance. I could see were few brave teenagers probably decided to sleep out for the night, thinking that maybe since it was Halloween something would happen. And what did they know? Maybe something would…

"You know… I've seen city views plenty before, but for some reason this feels different." Falkner finally spoke.

"Maybe it's because I'm here?" I whispered to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

"No really what?" Falkner insisted, reaching out to touch my sleeve. My eyes had fallen, and I was suddenly lost in the idea of what this all meant to someone like me. I could communicate with the dead… but what did that mean in comparison to being able to communicate with the living? I had accepted the fact that I wasn't normal a long time ago… however I never fully satisfied the desire to be normal at times like this. It stabbed me in the back no matter how much I loved my abilities with the dead.

"Morty… what is it?" Falkner tugged on my sleeve just a little bit, not hard enough to really get my attention, but hard enough to make me stop and retake the action. My head spun and my heart leapt in a spur of the moment I-NEED-THIS-RIGHT-THE-FUCK-NOW feeling. I sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned to Falkner shakily, gripping him by the arms so tightly he squeaked in surprise.

"Morty what the—

My lips crashed down on his then, hard and hot and desperate as ever and he tried to shake me off, piercing his mouth together in a tight line of absolute rejection. I was stubborn though… and I would not loose when I had been playing for so long. Three months now I had been thinking about Falkner and I couldn't bring myself to say anything to him concerning emotions or anything of the sort. I was not a man of simple words, and so I chose not to speak a lot of the times. This also backfired in my face at moments like this.

My mouth kneaded his harshly, sucking and pulling on his lower lip while my hands held him in a terrible grip, far enough away from me so that he could not knee me in the crotch like he tried to, but close enough so that I had a good hold on him. I tore at his tender lips, breathing heavily and knowing that there was no going back now. I forced myself upon him harder until his mouth trembled open and I could slid my tongue just past his lower lip.

He stopped jerking then, losing himself in the way it felt to succumb. His aqua eyes closed under the moon and then slowly mine did as well, taking and giving and taking and giving tongue back and forth until my hands did not squeeze his arms, but rather brushed gently against them, rubbing out the angry red marks my fingers had made. Falkner stood limply, arms dangling at his side while I kissed him and he tried his hardest not to kiss back.

A hand reached its way upwards, sliding along his neck and stopped at his jaw line. I caressed his face carefully, making circles on his cheek while he lost the battle in which his tongue was tucked away. It slithered out to meet mine, and in the same instant that they touched—just barely the tips locked together—he tore himself away from me with a grunt, shoving against my chest and wobbling backwards with a face as white as a ghost—how ironic.

We stared at each other for a second, while I realized that in the heat of the moment Zephyr had wormed its way out of Falkner's flight jacket and pecked the living shit out of my collar bone. Tiny scratches trickled blood down to the front of my shirt.

No words were spoken as the navy haired boy reached to his belt and revealed a pokeball that I hadn't known he brought. His hands trembled as he clicked it open and let out the massive black bird that I had seen him fly on before. My stomach flipped and my heart sank.

"Falkner… no… Falkner! You're not supposed to be flying!"

But he got on the bird anyways, gripping the tops of its wings with even his braced hand and kicking his feet up off the ground. He said nothing as Pride dove off into the night, flapping its long steady wings and keeping them afloat with ease. I watched after them in wonder, coming down from the lustful high at lightning speed. Crashing and burning into the pitiful excuse of being unable to control myself. Falkner was my only living friend and I had just gone and ruined that.

Shit. I was so selfish.

What a great fucking Halloween…

….

~Falkner~

Who the hell did he think he was?

Playing with me like that… I couldn't handle myself. I was weak, incapable of fighting off even the most simple of problems. And here I was, back home with my hand simply on FIRE from clutching the tops of Pride's wings while flying. I was in pain. I was alone.

I was breaking down, tears streaming down my face while I fought to get my father's name out of my mouth. The only person in this world that could have said something to make me feel better about myself… and even he was gone. He would have told me to suck it up though… I knew that as much. I knew my father wouldn't have pitied me, and yet it was the harsh tough love that I needed so much right now. I couldn't stand it… I hated this. I felt violated… I felt used.

Zephyr rubbed his face lovingly against my neck, showing that rare affection and trying to comfort me in any way possible. He made soft chirping noises, asking why I was upset because he couldn't fully understand what Morty had done to me.

Cold and shaking I made my way through my lonely house and out back to where the sanctuary was. Despite wanting to curl up in bed and sleep off the initial shock, I had to check on my birds. Mama Bird was asleep by now, curled up in the highest nesting box and snoring softly. I didn't call to her or anything, but just knowing that she in her old fragile age was ok, made me feel a little better. I wiped my good hand across my face sniffing.

My birds… that's all I needed… that's all I ever needed.

A soft whistling came from the low branches of the trees lining our fences, and while I looked over I noticed Jake, the most sensitive and ever so sweet Swellow carrying a letter in his beak and delivering it to me as he always did when I got mail. He landed on one of the ropes and hung upside down, his goofy smile touching his eyes before he realized that I was very upset. With a concerned chirp he swung closer to me, reaching out until I took the blank envelope from him.

"Ah… it's ok, Jake." I sniffed, gently pushing the Swellow away as he tried to rub himself over me with concern. He was the most sensitive to these kinds of emotions, often beating himself up over the way I felt. He wasn't the bravest or the fastest of all birds, but he had a loving heart and that was what made me love him. More often than not when he knew I was upset he would have a sort of nervous breakdown of his own and start plucking out his feathers.

I shook myself upright and tried to look normal in front of my birds, tearing at the envelope swiftly. I really had no concern of what it was, but it was routine for me to open my mail when Jake gave it to me and I didn't want to mess that up for him.

Plucked out the folded notebook paper from inside I read.

iFalkner

I noticed at the beach last weekend that you were really concerned about this feather… so… I hope it's what you were expecting.

~Morty

Ps- thanks for being my friend…/i

Tears sprung from my eyes like raindrops as I bit my lip, thinking about how late I was to receiving this letter, and knowing that had I gotten it even a day earlier I wouldn't have reacted the way I did with Morty tonight. My hand slid through the white envelope in disbelief as I pulled out a stunning silver feather. It glittered under the moonlight, its bristles slightly reflective and showing the blue of my eyes as I held it up and twisted it. Such perfection…

Jake and Zephyr stared at me in worry as I stuffed Morty's letter back into the envelope and turned, holding the precious silver wing delicately as I headed for the house. I could hardly believe this was happening…

Not even an hour ago Morty had dragged me through a haunted tower and kissed me at the top of it. Just like that, he had stuck his tongue into my mouth and everything! But now this… I bit my lip as I stared at the beautiful feather. If Morty didn't care about me he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of getting that feather in the first place. If I didn't know any better, actually I would say that Morty cared about me far more than I realized.

The ghost gym leader hadn't a friend in the world before I came along… and now…

I slunked over to my couch and collapsed on it with a whimper, wishing that I wasn't alone, hating myself for thinking that I needed something other than my birds to comfort me. The paper of the letter felt like satin under my fingertips as I took it out and read it again. Over and over again I replayed those simple words in my head, imaging Morty writing them with deep concentration. He didn't open himself up to anyone but me, and yet…

That kiss. Why would he do that to me?

My phone sounded then, jolting me in surprise as it vibrated and chimed in my pocket. For a second all I could think of was "dammit Jasmine!" until I saw that it wasn't her who texted me. Once again I was struck with that odd guilt in knowing that I had really pissed her off not going to the meeting yesterday… but that was beside the point. I looked to see that Morty had messaged me, and didn't have the heart not to open it.

To Falkner

From Morty: …. I'm sorry

I sniffled softly on the couch, turning and playing with that reflective silver feather in my hand, wondering why and how and when the hell things had gone wrong. But if he was that dedicated to being my friend… well… then…

To Morty

From Falkner: It's ok.


	17. Chapter 17

~Falkner~

November was a quiet month, eager, longing for winter in every way shape and form, but I welcomed it like warmth. Like a comforting blue flame, something to give me peace and closure while after Halloween that was what I needed most. I needed to be reminded of who I was, and the things I did for me and no one else in this world. I had to seclude myself into challenging few and far between trainers that crossed my neat little town. I had to devote myself to the birds that surrounded me and nothing more. I just had to be ME.

Every day I crossed paths with that perfect silver feather sitting in a glass box on my counter. It sparkled in the morning when the sun would come through the window above my sink, and I found nothing more stunning. It tossed rainbows with delicate precision, making my heart warm when I thought about what its keeper could possibly look like.

There were many great birds in the world, some more rare than others, but none as magnificent as the water beast that was said to hail somewhere deep within the Whirl islands. It was something most people never caught a glimpse of in their lives, and yet it was so unbelievably true that I knew I would see it someday. Someday when I got up the nerve to learn how to swim I would risk my life and travel to the islands, embracing whatever I needed to until I found that magnificent creature.

Lugia was its name, and there was no further record of if it was a female, male, or perhaps even both. It may be something capable of self fertilization; however I didn't believe as such. If it could recreate copies of itself then there would be more of them around, and it wouldn't be a legendary beast. I personally believed it was something one of a kind, something so untouchable to mankind that we never got the chance to harm it. That or it was just far too powerful, protected with the most powerful of whirlpools.

I found myself contemplating yet again what it would be like to meet and befriend such a creature, while staring at the precious feather that Morty had so generously given me. Over the last few weeks I had returned to the envelope on the counter with his letter in it numerous times, sometimes ever three or four times a day, just to read it and try and decode the message. Morty sounded so genuine, even a little oblivious, but I wasn't so incompetent to know there wasn't SOMETHING between the lines. Morty was trying to tell me something with that letter… perhaps something more trivial than I expected.

Was Morty Matsuba, ghost trainer, gym leader, and neighborhood "freak", trying to show me the emotions he had? After all he had kissed me… maybe that letter and giving me the feather was just a way for him to bribe me with things he couldn't say himself?

But then again, why? Why would Morty like me like that? Was it because I showed him some sign of friendship when no one else had? Was it because he was just confused? Or maybe I was missing it completely. Maybe Morty wanted a fuck buddy, and I was the one. That would exclude the possibility of him actually caring about me though, and he certainly did care about me… in his own strange way.

Tonight was the night of the meeting here in Johto, and I had gotten word from Jasmine that if I didn't show up she would literally come to my house and drag me out kicking and screaming. I wanted to be displeased by her controlling-ness, but we had just patched things up a week ago and I wasn't ready to go back to her hating me again.

I enjoyed Jasmine a lot, I really did, but sometimes she could be too much for me. Her pushy nature was a little bit of a hassle sometimes, but she was gentle and soft in every other way. Her kindness lead me to believe I was the one at fault, and so I made sure to keep her from any sort of pain from here on out. We were friends…

But how could I make her see that we were JUST friends? It was obvious from day one that she liked me more than I liked her, but it felt so wrong saying that. No one wanted to get friend-zoned, and I was pretty sure that I didn't have the balls to do that to her anyways. I was weak when it came to emotions like that.

The evening came quickly on this day, just as I expected, and by the time I had to set off for the Indigo Plateau I was already jittery with worry. I hadn't seen Jasmine personally since the day at the beach about a month ago, so that was awkward enough, but what was worse was that I hadn't seen Morty since Halloween night.

What would I say to him tonight? Granted he was even there…

I shook my head to clear the thoughts. What was I worried about? If Morty wasn't there then I didn't have anything to worry about…

But what if I wanted him to be there?

ARrrrgggg! This was too much for me. My thoughts were jumbled even as I flew through the evening sky. It was orange as ever, bright, deceiving as warm but nothing of the sort. It had been a clear day across Johto; however the sun did not spare us any warmth. I was shivering from the frosty air as approaching the Indigo Plateau, weaving between trees while spotting out the most obvious picnic table camp fire pits that sat within the courtyard.

"Coming in!" I yowled to the small group sitting from below, so as that they wouldn't be frightened by my sudden dropping in. I saw the fat head of Chuck turn in my direction, as well as the lithe figure of his make-believe niece, Jasmine, and his best friend Bugsy. I wasn't convinced that those two weren't secret lovers, even if Chuck was twice Bugy's size and would swallow him whole during—no... oh Arceus eeew.

I pulled up on Pride's wings sharply as he swooped in, controlling the airflow so that he wouldn't flap out the tabletop campfire. That sat within the group. Everyone was wrapped in blankets, happily chatting and turning to greet me. I noticed how Jasmine's chestnut eyes burned in the fires glow, bright and eager and totally friendly. I sighed a breath of fresh air to know she wasn't uncomfortable with me here.

"Nice landing hot shot." A very sarcastic, but somehow friendly voice was followed by a quick thump to the back of my head. I scrunched up my face, rolling my eyes at the remark.

"Yeah, nice to see you too Clair." I commented as the dragon tamer took her place beside Bugsy with a snort. It was kind of funny actually, me and Clair hadn't gotten off to a good start due to her attitude problems, but I got the feeling she quite trusted me now. Three months could do a number on the people around you. I smiled cheerily at the hostile trainer, rubbing her Dragonair's face with her sharp fingers.

"Yo Falkner! Baby, where you been? Ditched out on us last meeting." Bugsy rolled his wrist in the air as if he was waving a bug away. I watched as he pulled a bottle to his lips before answering.

"Yeah…. I uhh… had plans."

"With Morty." Jasmine cooed, not angrily but not nicely at all. She was… teasing me I think? But the bitterness in her eyes was real. I bit my lower lip.

"Why you wanna go out with that guy?" Chuck guffawed. "Good sex?"

I flinched. This was what the Johto gym leaders did… we picked on each other with no intention of real harm; however that hit a nerve right there. I opened my mouth to say something but was cut off abruptly.

"Best damn sex I've ever had." A bone chilling tone struck me as I called Pride back into his pokeball and walked to sit next to Jasmine. We whirled though, at the sound of some arrogant asshole that had forced his tongue into my mouth a couple weeks ago. I sighed.

"That's right…" I shrugged, knowing that disagreeing with Morty would only make things worse. At the very least though I knew that maybe bringing Morty into this would give him some more friends, and if he had friends within the other gym leaders he wouldn't be so… eager to be closer to me.

Chuck and Bugsy howled with laugher, while Clair fought a smirk over her face and Jasmine looked thoroughly disgusted. I sat next to her with a nervous laugh.

"I didn't know you were coming… Morty." Jasmine went on as the ghost trainer slid in next to me, shoving against my hips and making me shove into Jasmine. I froze between the two of them, curling my lip at the dirty blond whose hair was astray with wind. He grinned evilly at me, obviously remembering our previous time together.

I told him that kiss—rather assault via mouth—was ok… but did I really mean it? I narrowed my eyes back at him. "I didn't either." I asked quizzically. Morty was not the most social butterfree, so this was a surprise.

"Well I didn't want to let my fuck buddy come alone, now did I?" Morty's violet eyes danced with orange as he stared everyone down. Arceus damn… don't look so violent towards people! That's probably why no one understands you…

"Please tell me you guys are joking." Clair snorted. "But by all means if you're not… let me get my camera."

"Gonna be the photographer Clair?" Bugsy elbowed her, making her Dragonair growl in defense.

"Shut up, Bug." Clair flicked him in the forehead. "Hand me a beer."

Chuck dug through the ice chest they had bought, completely fine with the cold icy water touching him. He trained like that often, the crazy man, so we had officially made him the "cooler boy" along with his trusty partner, Bugsy, who demanded more than enough chips do to the fact that he secretly smoked pot and it gave him the munchies. Or at least that's what Falkner told himself.

The ice cold thing looked so repulsive to Falkner as of now he shivered. How could people drink when it was so cold out? Not to mention how could anyone drink at all… it was no good for you.

"Cold?" Jasmine asked me after a moment, opposite side of Morty who inched his side against mine as if no one would notice. My stomach twisted and leapt at the same time, being smothered by the two.

"I'm fine." I insisted, eager to change the subject. "Where are Pryce and Whitney?"

Jasmine shrugged. "None of us have heard from Pryce in a while… I wonder if his path is blocked by boulders again? Maybe bigger this time?"

"No. not possible." Clair shook her head, slurping on her beer. "I checked the path yesterday, everything was clear, well with the exception of one, which I smashed."

"Maybe he is just late." Chuck shrugged, though looked pretty concerned himself. I got the feeling he felt that if something happened to our eldest gym leader he would be stuck as the old guy, and that would not go over well. He was already the creepy uncle.

"If he doesn't show tonight I will go see him tomorrow." Clair announced. Despite her being a brat and a bitch sometimes, she actually cared about the rest of the gym leaders very much. She was every bit as protective against us as she was selfish with herself. I noticed that she and Pryce however, had a bond that went beyond the rest of us. Possible because in Pryce's younger years he mentored Lance, who ended up mentoring Clair.

"Hmmr." Bugsy grunted. "So… um… Morty, has that little redheaded prick gotten to you yet?"

I noticed Morty's eyes dance before he answered, quite painfully as well. "Maybe… I don't keep track of challengers."

But I knew that tone of voice well, since I had heard it time and time again while scolding myself in the mirror. Morty did remember the redheaded one named Silver, because it was obvious that he had lost to him. Just like the rest of us.

"How about the dark haired one?" Bugsy's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as did the rest of the leaders. "Gold is his name. He's the regions "hero" at the moment."

Morty snapped back with a sharp "No!"

So not even the mysterious ghost trainer could beat those two? I shook my head, wanting to elbow Morty for being so snappy with Bugsy. It wasn't right for him to act like that, even if he had every right to dislike the other leaders.

"Calm down… Arceus." Jasmine huffed under her breath.

Morty's face flashed over, making the atmosphere between them spark a sudden hatred that all lead back to me. I was stuck right in the middle, though looking at Morty and hoping he wouldn't lose his temper. This was not the way to make friends.

"Erhem." Clair cleared her throat. "Come now, we're… mostly all friends here." Her turquoise eyes were prying though, as if she was secretly edging on a fight between the six of us. Sad thing was I didn't know who I would stick up for this time. Morty WAS being a bit of an ass, of course that didn't get even for the numerous times the rest of them had been to him.

"Mostly? Wh—what do you mean mostly?" I spluttered, running my two un-braced fingers through my hair. "We're all friends here."

Chuck slapped Clair on the back as she was about to take another swig, making her cough and splutter helplessly. "Aint that right Clair? You musta been misunderstanding!"

"Dammit Chuck!" Clair whirled on him, jabbing a sharp fist into his gut and making him huff tremendously. He was still laughing however, with what little breath he had left.

"No, Clair's right." Morty spoke up. "Not all of us are friends. Some of us are just aquiantences… some of us enemies, others… partners."

"Well aren't you just the poet." Jasmine grumbled. "I think it's quite clear what we all are here."

"Yeah. Friends." I insisted quietly. Dammit Jasmine, you are only making things worse!

"Enemies." Morty hissed back.

"Friends!"

Clair snickered.

"Yes." Jasmine snarled, leaning over me to look at Morty. For the first time she didn't look so fragile to me, she actually looked quite capable of causing damage.

Morty bared his teeth at her.

"Friends!" I shoved at Morty, since I couldn't push Jasmine—being that she was a girl—"Dammit Morty…"

His face hardened, but he looked away, shoving his leg up against mine under the table. It was obvious that Jasmine thought I was sticking up for her too, which was only going to end in disaster. She blinked gratefully at me, leaning over into some sort of hug while her hand whisked against my elbow. I nearly flinched.

"Hey guys!" A powerful squeak of a voice made Bugsy nearly leap into Chuck's arms. Clair stifled another laugh.

"Well what did I miss?" Whitney chimed, standing next to Jasmine on my other side, looking across at Morty, seeing as though he was sitting in her obvious spot. The two made brief, awkward eye contact.

"Nothing good." Bugsy snorted, obviously embarrassed by his sudden reaction to being frightened.

"Oh… well…" Whitney shuffled awkwardly. "I—uhh…"

"Nonsense she missed the show." Clair twirled a lock of her hair. "Chuck, hand Whitney a beer."

What was it with that woman and beer?

"We were discussing the relationships we have with one another…" Jasmine murmured, and shockingly enough her lithe little hand slithered over mine, patting gently at my bare knuckles. I froze. No. no no no no. I bit my lip. I wasn't sticking up for you Jasmine… I wasn't! I—I just couldn't push you away.

"Right…" Morty huffed under his breath.

A deadly silence stretched across the now near complete group of seven of us. I swallowed hard, my mouth dropping open softly as I stared down at the table in front of me. The fire flicked ashes at me as a long, strong hand teased at thigh, beneath the picnic bench and away from prying eyes. This was the most horrible moment of my life.

Jasmine was slipping her hand into mine, her fingers twining softly, delicately, gentle, peaceful and quiet just like she was herself. And right on my other side was Morty, gripping my thigh with his hard hand, inching closer with rhythmic strokes. I flushed a horrible red, shook slightly.

"What about it?" Whitney smiled, oblivious.

No one knew, no one could see what was going on under the table, and I was going to become the biggest asshole in the whole world. No one would know why either. Jasmine squeezed my hand softly, and Morty pinched my zipper in the same heartbeat.

"Whitney, take my seat!" I ripped my hand from Jasmine, gasping, eyes wide as I stumbled back, nearly tripping on the picnic table leg and starting off in a broken jog. "I—I can't…" I choked as a horribly strange feeling came over me.

Murmurs of concern rose behind me as I teetered off, yanking up on the zipper of my jeans with my back turned. I could not believe Morty! He was such a cheater! My heart thudded awkwardly. What if this was the reason everyone hated Morty so much? Maybe the reason they didn't like him was because he was a complete and utter pervert.

"Hey, Falkner!" a voice followed me into the trees, while I cupped my un-braced hand over my crotch, trying to hold down the tingling sensation in which that damn voice behind me brought on. I didn't stop either, not while I found my way out of the main courtyard and around to the side of the chilly garden. I was not normal that I thanked the cold weather, but now was one of them.

I stopped, shaking my head to clear the images that Morty bestowed on me with just the touch of his hand. My back fell against a brick pillar and within the same moment I was sinking down, withdrawing into myself as the sound of dry grass crunching underfoot approached me.

"Needed some air?"

"Go away." I hid my face in my hands, damning that brace to hell in the midst of trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

"Falkner…"

"Shut the hell up Morty!" I sulked, unable to control the aching feeling in my pelvis. My stomach flipped in many different directions at once while the ghost trainer bent down, kneeling with one arm pushed up against the stone behind me.

I grit my teeth. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

His eyes twitched, purple pools of lavender that glittered in the sliver moonlight. "You… just told me not to talk."

I glared at him. "Is this why everyone treats you different? Is it because you… did what you're doing to me, to them?"

Morty's eyes lolled around in a sarcastic roll. "That's it. You've figured out my secret!" he shifted to be sitting next to me, close enough so that we were touching. "Cus what I wanted most was a piece of… Chuck's ass. Oh, or how about Clair huh? You know I love stuck up bitches."

"Alright." I didn't want to picture it. I waved him off. "Just sto—

"Or how about Pryce? You know… old people sex… You must be on to something here."

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry what?"

"Shut up Morty! I'm not joking here… you're freaking me out." I hissed, though strangely enough not feeling bad at all around him. "You're one fucked up friend you know that?"

He shut his lips into a tight amused line, staring me down with his face far too close for comfort, and yet completely ok. It made me shiver.

"You keep telling me to shut up… and then you ask me questions." He whispered. "So what do I do?"

"Nothing." I blew out a hard breath of air, teeth chattering slightly from the breeze that blew through my hair. Frustration set in. "I—I mean… I don't know… you realize that I just totally rejected Jasmine back there, because of you."

Morty snickered. "That just made me ten times more happy."

"Damn you."

The ghost trainer nudged me gently. "Come on… it's not like you really want to have anything with her anyways."

"You don't know that…" I lied. How could Morty know that I had no intention of being serious with Jasmine?

"Oh really?" Morty leaned in swiftly, flipping over and pinning me against the brick by my shoulders. "Let me find out."

"No! Dammit Morty!" I squirmed as his elbows replaced his hands, digging into me while he gripped the sides of my face. "Morty sto—

Once again, for the second time Morty shoved his tongue into my mouth, pressing me against the brick and fondling my hips, rubbing, squeezing, holding me still while I lost all my senses to taste and touch. I could no longer hear anything going on around us, and the only thing even remotely of a smell was Morty's body wash—the same one he let me borrow when I stayed over on Halloween.

"You don't want Jasmine." Morty broke away from me, panting heavily while his cold hands slipped up my back. "I know you dont, you know why?"

"Get—the fu—

"Shhhh…" Morty kissed my cheek gently. "You're stronger… you have a heart far beyond hers."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered again, while his hand curled around my braced one. I waited, heart pounding so harshly in my chest I couldn't contain myself. I squirmed, fidgeting more likely and Morty ripped the velcro straps away from my wrist.

"Doctor said you could take the brace off… after a few weeks. But your fingers have to stay taped together." Morty slipped the thing off gently, tossing it aside and stroking the red marked skin from where it had been skinned.

"I can't believe you." I looked away, face aflame with heat as he bent to kiss my tender wrist.

"You don't want Jasmine…" He kissed ever so softly before leaning up again, leaning his forehead against my shoulder and sighing. "We're still friends?"

"Frie—friends don't sexually assault each other." I gripped a handful of his hair and pulled him back.

"Yeah but…" He shook away from me, leaning back and taking his arms away from me so that I had every chance to run or punch him if I wanted to. "You're not screaming rape now are you?" Morty smiled wickedly at me.

I glared. "Damn you."

He winked, pushing up off the ground and offering me a hand. "You better go back; they might wonder what I've done with you."

I slapped his hand away with a snort. "Fuck you, I'm going home."

His violet eyes flashed with wonder, mischief, other things I couldn't keep at bay while he was driving me personally mad. I could not give myself the satisfaction in knowing that me and Morty were friends when he did this kind of stuff to me. It didn't make any sense at all, and I wasn't sure I could handle not understanding for much longer. However, at moments like this when he looked down on me with that wicked smirk on his face I couldn't help but NOT hate him. I wasn't sure what was different about me than the other gym leaders, or why Morty didn't faze me like they did, but I knew that this was getting out of hand.

My stomach twitched at me, a sudden shocking feeling in the pit of my balls that made me jolt a little bit. It grit my teeth, flinching as the rare pang of a boner perked up from within my jeans. I let my head fall against the bricks behind me with a terrible sigh of annoyance. Was I really so weak? So… deprived of sexual intercourse that even a guy could turn me on? I swore that if it wasn't for the face that he gave me that silver wing I would have punched him in the face by now.

Which reminded me of course… "Hey…"

Morty stopped a few feet away, turning to look back over his shoulder at me with a questioning smile. "Yes?"

"Th—thank you… For the feather." I wasn't counting on him knowing what I was talking about… really I wasn't… but I couldn't help it when he smiled at me like that. He made my heart skip another fucking beat.

"Anytime Falkner… You're pretty damn cute you know?"

I sighed as he walked away into the night…


	18. Chapter 18

~Falkner~

"No! Dammit, Morty. I don't want to go out with you." I whined into the phone as fifty pounds of birdseed rest on my opposite shoulder. "I told you I'm busy!"

Seriously… this guy. Who did he think he was? With a hefty thump I let the birdseed slump to the ground. It was Friday afternoon, (shopping day as my father used to call it) though neither he nor I ever actually went out and shopped. We had a truck deliver us the proper things for the birds weekly, and for the short twenty minutes that the massive thing was unloading, I was going through hell packing bags up on my shoulders and wishing that I had a wheelbarrow

"Falkner. Please. You can't ignore me forever." Morty crooned to me. "What are you doing right now?"

I grunted, squeezing my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I reverted back to pack another bag. The sarcasm in my voice was supposed to sting, but it sounded quite strangled itself. "I'm playing tiddlywinks. What the hell do you think?"

"Sounds like fun, can I come join you?"

"No. Morty, I'm working."

"No gym leader ever does work by themselves. Come on now, what are you really doing? Jacking off?"

I huffed in surprise; a nauseous laugh was sweat dripped cold and clammy down the back of my neck. "You obviously don't know the importance of hard work."

"Not really." He agreed. "But you honestly sound like you're jacking off."

"I'm not jacking off!" I snapped as I passed the truck driver, who had asked if he could use my gym's restroom while he was stopped here. He shot me a "what the fuck?" look and kept walking uncomfortably. I sighed.

"Well if you aren't jacking off, then do you need help doing what you are doing?" Morty asked casually. I pictured him lounging on his couch in some odd position do to excruciating boredom. It seemed all he ever did was call me when he was bored. And the strange thing was, I didn't exactly mind. Sure he got ass out of whack and annoying half the time, but it was better than Jasmine trying to flirt with me all the time.

"No. I don't need any help." I had to admit, the huffing and puffing from lifting the birdseed probably did sound like me jacking off. I made sure to bend with my knees as I hauled the last bag up and over my shoulder. Mentally I was deciding on what to do next. The cold had come in quickly this season and fall was ending already, soothing itself into a winter chill that would leave my birds cold.

I had already had a heater installed last winter just before my father passed away, and so the giant tree house in the back was warm for them, but I still felt the need to prep as much as I could. All of my birds were in top physical condition, but that didn't take away from some of their age. Mama Bird especially was pushing on her years, and I didn't want to lose her frail body to the cold.

"I'm bored." Morty said after a moment of silence. I let the last bag slip from my shoulder into the storage container before taking a deep breath and rolling my shoulders back to loosen them. I shifted the phone into my hand and straightened up. Zephyr dive bombed me in the same action, landing lopsided on my shoulder and flapping madly to regain his balance. Angry at the failed attempt he attacked my ear, pecking at the side of my head with his stubby beak, which was also covered in honey.

"Stop it!" I shook the bird away. "Zephyr you pain in the ass."

Morty snickered on the phone. "Falkner I'm bored."

"I don't care!" I swatted Zephyr away as he lunged at me, talons flailing and eyes wide with panic. He squeaked and chirped and simply wouldn't shut up until his mother, Mama Bird, called him over with an angry screech. I relaxed slightly, closing the large wooden box of birdseed and sitting on it to rest a moment.

"Morty. Look, I'm busy. I have to get this stuff done. Ok I have to go." Truth was I quite liked talking to him while I was working around the house and sanctuary, it gave me a sense that there was someone else there with me, and I didn't have to resort to talking to birds who in returned, attacked me out of nowhere with honey all over their face.

"You don't want to hang up though." Morty's smirk reached me all the way from Ecruteak. I pictured his narrowed violet eyes leaning in close to me, prying for an answer my mouth could not give.

"Morty, really?" I scoffed at him, pulling the phone down from my face and hitting the end button before I could change my mind.

Ever since that night at the Indigo Plateau, when our meeting was so rudely spun out of control because I couldn't handle Morty's groping, I had been thinking about the ghost trainer nonstop. Some days were harder than others, thinking that I actually liked him more than I thought I did, and others I felt completely at ease with myself, saying I couldn't care less and what not. The point wasn't that though, the point was that I hadn't so much as gotten a breath of fresh air without him on my mind since.

Stupid, arrogant, gym leader…

Nothing further had really been said between me and Morty, at least nothing important that is. He flirted with me all the time, like now on the phone, suggesting things like coming over to help me jack off (completely ridiculous) and making me flush with irritation. It was the single most frustrating thing I had ever dealt with, and yet every time his name came up on my phone I didn't have the heart not to answer.

I sat on the feed box for a long moment, relaxing as the chilly, nearly winter air nipped at my cheeks and my mouth made soft puffs of fog appear before me. It felt good against my hot skin, but damp in a way that proved I needed a shower. Actually, a hot bath would be better… but of course I had to get up into the sanctuary and make sure the heater was working.

Just as I went to move my phone buzzed in my hand, making me sigh with irritation and—dammit, my stomach flipped as I looked down at the screen. Morty was not calling this time, but sending me a picture.

Shit.

Curse all phones that don't allow you to see what they typed before seeing the actual picture. Knowing Morty I was almost positive he sent me a picture of his dick, but the fact that I didn't know would drive me mad. I glared down at the unopened message for a second before opening my own bank one and texting back.

To Morty

From Falkner: iWhat did you send me?/i

With a grunt I pushed away from the wooden crate I sat on and left my phone. It wasn't safe to have that thing near me anymore, not with such a pervert as my number one most contacted. At one point that had been Jasmine, but seeing as though she was not speaking to me anymore (because she still thought I rejected her holding my hand) Morty had swooped in and taken her place with ease. It wasn't hard to beat of course, since until now I hadn't enjoyed answering my phone anyways.

Wait? Enjoy? Did I really enjoy answering Morty's messages?

Grumbling I reached out to take hold of the ropes attached to the large sturdy oak trees that lined my property. There were a few boards nailed into the trunk of this largest one here, and with the help of a rope I could haul myself up to the tree house area with ease. Of course that meant fighting a trail of bird shit, but by now I barely noticed.

Every morning I would hose off my patio before opening the gym doors so that trainers coming around wouldn't have to look at the droppings. And every afternoon I would refill the food dishes and give certain birds certain medicine if needed. On Fridays I got deliveries, Saturdays I would give the birds a bath if they needed it, and between all that I had battles to win and Morty to entertain. Sunday was really the only day I had to simply relax, and I hated it.

"Mama Bird!" I whistled from the second to last wooden plank. I peered into the nesting house for the elderly Pidgeot, seeing as though she was picking at her sons feathers, curled up with him in the back nearest to the heater. I could feel it was very warm in there even from here, which was a sigh of relief, seeing as though I wouldn't have to climb in and disturb anyone.

A small group of Pidgeotto were curled up together sleeping soundly away from the cold, and between them lay three or four small tallow that Jake had produced with an unruly female who once lived here. She flew away though one day, abandoning her babies and leaving the pidgeotto to take them in as their own. It saddened me to know any birds would ever leave here, but of course that was part of having such creatures. Birds were wild and could not be contained; therefore I couldn't judge their desire to fly free. Plus Jake rebounded quickly from his mate's disappearance, and I was happy as long as he was. The Tallow were well watched as well, one of them showing it's father friendliness and its mothers spunkiness, which meant that I may train her one day when she was older.

Mama Bird cooed at me as I smiled back, whistling under my breath and ignoring the loud vibrations coming from my phone on the wooden crate away off. Morty would be the death of me if he kept this up, I swore it. That man, disrupting me from my work while it was most important. I climbed down carefully to see what he had to say.

My property was well protected with trees, lined by a pond that froze over in the winter on one side, and my house sitting pretty in the middle. It was quite a view that could make you feel like you were out of the town, and I appreciated that most about it. That and the fact that I could make faces at my text messages without worrying about who was watching or anything.

To future lover

From Morty: iIt's nothing horrible./i

I glared down at my screen, tempted to open the picture message once again. Morty didn't come off as much of a liar since he seemed to say exactly what he wanted to when he wanted to without shame, however I didn't trust him in the slightest.

To Morty

From Falkner: iI don't believe you/i

What a pain in my ass. I groaned under my breath, clicking back to from our conversation and going to the picture. It was probably something completely wrong in every way… and yet it felt like I would surely lose sleep over it if I didn't do look.

Just a peak… I clicked the message open, looking crossly at the screen as it opened to reveal Morty. It was a close up on his face, so that I could see the white of his teeth clearly and the true mauve color of his eyes. I weaned my eyes onto it quickly, realizing that he hadn't actually sent me something bad… but more so something… quite attractive.

No… no I can't be attracted by him. One, he's a guy and that would be completely humiliating. And two: he is the biggest creep I have ever met. Not to mention he was just playing with my heart because I was the only one to give him the time of day. Had the other gym leaders showed him friendship surely he would have pulled the same acts on them. He could have groped them and taken them out for coffee and late night trips to haunted towers, and… and sent them endearing but mischievous pictures.

I was mid thought on how not to feel about Morty when he text me back, making me jump slightly.

To Future lover

From Morty: iIm coming over. I'll make you look at my pic…/i

Those three dots at the end of his message made me shiver. That was not a threat, that was a promise and I knew it. Morty never said something without being sure to do it. But more or less my stomach hurdled up and over my heart just to come crashing back down again in my lower regions. I felt a sudden pressure just below my belly button, slowly moving down, promising—again, not a threat—to make me bulge.

I typed back swiftly.

To Morty

From Falkner: iNo need. I looked at it./i

Morty was swift this time; eager. I got the feeling that he already had the message typed out when I replied.

To Future lover

From Morty: isee you in an hour/i

Shit… what the hell was he thinking? I considered texting him and saying that I wouldn't be here, but that would only make him more determined to hunt me down. What was it worth to him anyways? I couldn't be sure… but I hated the idea of running away from my own home. Regardless of Morty's actions I shouldn't have to feel trapped. This was MY gym, this was MY home, this was MY life, and I wasn't quite sure where Morty fit in all that. I felt too busy to even think about him, let alone have him over.

Arceus… he was coming over.

I didn't even have my chores done and he was coming to distract me. Coming to fondle with my heart and act like it was no big deal while in all reality I would only assume the worst. Would he smile at me with those enticingly sharp eyes? Would he try and touch me again? I bit my lip as the memory haunted me; his long hand reaching at my crotch and his fingers pinching the zipper. It had been pretty terrible of him and yet I felt no sense of anger, just a mild irritation for my defenselessness. Why hadn't I pushed him away when he came to find me after I ran? Why hadn't I gone back to the group of leaders and told them what happened? Why hadn't I explained to Jasmine…?

Morty was making me crazy and he didn't even care. How could this end up being anything but good? Wiping my brow from the clamminess of my skin I tossed the phone not on but into the container of birdseed where I wouldn't hear it if it rang or vibrated again. No matter what I was doing now I couldn't let him distract me. I needed to finish my daily work and Zephyr sounded as if he was being smothered to death by his mother up in the tree house. He would need saving soon, and so would Mama Bird if he was giving her all sorts of trouble.

And yet as I went to work, trying to sort things out in my head I found my hands naturally fleeing to my own body. I would stop and feel the lanky muscles under my shirt, occasionally tilting my thumbs up under my shirt to feel the hard hip bones that sat so delicately with my narrow waist. It was a distracting kind of itch I couldn't scratch. Not unless of course I somehow found myself retreating into my house, shutting the sliding glass door on a very angry pidgey and sliding down to my knees with a shaky sigh. I couldn't let this happen to me… no way was this so distracting…I—I couldn't…

Couldn't help myself that's what.

My hands pulled at my zipper in the sudden warm air of my house, confident despite my internal dilemma and rubbing a flattened palm against the swollen bulge pushing up from my boxers. I had to close my eyes as I shifted my pants down, belt undone now, and touched myself feverishly. This was wrong… so wrong…

I looked at the nearest clock in my kitchen lazily as my demanding, hot erection split the opening of my boxers and I pulled at it greedily. If there was anything I was sure about at the moment it was that I refused to be even more vulnerable around Morty if he insisted on coming over. I would not get hard on thinking about what he did to me and then fail to push him away if he tried to again.

And so I jacket off… dammit… feeling confused and worried and completely helpless as Zephyr ran into the sliding glass door over and over. I could only ignore him though, stroking, teasing myself with shaky fingers. It had been so long since the last time I did this I couldn't even remember clearly. And jacking off was a natural… habit I suppose. It was as regular for a hormone infested boy my age as it was for a bird to learn to fly.

I was flying high now, racing the clock with my indecent pumping and hating myself for enjoying it. My stomach throbbed and my heart pounded, balls tightening and contracting to the feeling of such pressure. Such to a point of intensity that I actually lost all sense of hearing and sight for a split second. It surely had been a long time since I did this…

A groaning gasp escaped my lips as I hunched over forward, tightening my grip and heaving with effort. A silky white eruption came, slicking my tile floor first and then reeling back with another squirt. All. Over. My. Jeans. I shuddered, rippling upright and sighing, limp against the sliding glass door now.

"Hnng…" I moaned. "Oh… Arceus… what's wrong with me?" now relieved of the burden I could think clearly. "This is so wrong…"

But… was it? Really? Was Morty such a bad apple that I had to resort to things like this? I mean, how could I be sure he even felt up to fondling me today?

A sharp knock on my front door scared me into gasping, shifting my knees upright and then shoving upwards in the most lightheaded fashion. I nearly stumbled into my countertop, which was granite and surely would have knocked me out.

"Dammit." I cursed, reaching for the paper towels and the bottle of cleaner under my cabinet. The clock spared me a passing glance that explained Morty being fifteen minutes early and thoroughly ignorant. I sauntered awkwardly through the mess I made on my floor, cleaning and spraying and spraying again just for good measure before cracking my sliding door and allowing Zephyr to come rocketing in rather than hitting his head for the hundredth time. One of these days he would crack my glass is he wasn't careful

My door shook with a hard fist on it.

"J—just a minute!" I yelled, passing the living room where my home entryway was and fleeing to the bedroom for a new pair of pants.


	19. Chapter 19

~Morty~

How impatient of me, rapping my fist on the door with annoyance as Falkner had me waiting. I should have been happy that he was even going to answer at all, but that wasn't the case being that I was such a selfish person. On behalf of me and only myself I strode into Falkner's house the very moment he unlocked the door for me. I could have had gastly sweep in and unlock it for me, but I didn't think I would get any appreciation with that. Not to mention the lingering presence of Walter remained, hovering aggressively, snarling emotions of hate.

That man did not want me in his house or anywhere near his son, but I was too stubborn and rude not to obey him. Some would call it disrespect for the dead, but I knew the significance to those who passed more than anyone else, and let me tell you dead or not he didn't have a right to judge me. I ignored to spirit completely, refusing to let his words of scorn keep me away. I didn't want to fear his presence… I refused to.

"Well just come right in." Falkner grumbled as I started inspecting his entryway. I felt that there could be so many little things to learn about the bird trainer by entering his house. Curious and eager I glanced around at the framed pictures on the mild toned wall.

Two giant white frames lined the narrow entryway, and the only thing they portrayed were sleek delicate feathers that looked as if they were falling from the sky. Funny… I never took Falkner to be one for decorating, though the feathers were all fine and dandy since he was a bird trainer. It was even a little to be expected.

"Hmmph…" I commented mildly, leaving Falkner and walking past him into the living room. I wasn't sure exactly what I was expecting out of this kid, but I couldn't say I was surprised when it wasn't much. His living room was relatively small. Unlike my sleek oak flooring he had warm eggshell rugs, and a very long neutral brown L shaped couch that hugged a flat screen mounted on the wall. It looked somewhat like a man-cave would, only less out of order. There was a small fireplace in the corner and the whole thing was quite inviting. I could see myself cuddling Falkner on the couch, nibbling his neck, jacking him off, even having sex with him there.

"Well…" Falkner enquired, turning to go towards the open kitchen. "This is my home."

I followed gracefully, passing his tiny four person table and planting myself next to him while he dug through his cabinet for a glass and proceeded to clink it up against the fridge until water started to pour.

"I don't like tea, so you can bet I won't offer making you any." He murmured into his glass before tossing it back. Thirsty much? He must have been working very hard judging by how flushed his cheeks were… but of course that didn't make up for the lulling haziness in his eyes.

I shrugged off his offer for tea and turned to keep looking around. Little things here and there showed signs that he was the son of his ace trainer father, such as a statue of a Skarmory and a painting of some three headed bird from hell. Out of all the rooms so far the kitchen was both the most put together and the most hectic. There was off white tile floors with graying grout, light wooden cabinets, and granite counters. His white fridge was littered with sticky notes and reminders, along with news events and a calendar and phone numbers—to my amusement. Wasn't all that the kind of stuff people used a phone to keep track of? I hadn't so much as put a decorative magnet on my fridge.

I turned away from the hectic display and waltzed over to the back door, which was a simple sliding glass that seemed relatively boring if you asked me. He also had his blinds peeled back as far as they could go, which was the most obvious difference between us. He didn't seem to bother with darkness, whereas I felt safe in it.

"Can I?" I asked, reaching for his door handle. If Falkner was like most gym leaders—not including myself—he would have an alarm system.

"Sure, just don't scare my birds." Falkner said, abandoning his empty cup in the sink for later when he would hand-wash it (since there was no obvious dishwasher). It was obvious he didn't trust me out there alone, and who would? I flashed him a grin before stepping out onto his patio. Despite myself I was quite thrilled to see his world.

This majority of the patio was covered by a large wooden awning, and though long it was narrow in length. The grass met straight up to the brick, showing no signs of being cut lately since it was getting yellow from the cold. There were huge, ancient oak trees to my left, and surprisingly weaved between them were at least a dozen thick ropes slinking around.

"The birds like to hang on them…" Falkner explained seeing my expression. He pointed up to the treetops where a single wooden room seemed to be built. "That's the nesting box, or "tree house", and over there is the pond." He gestured to the small murky little mud puddle proudly. It didn't look like much actually, but I was fond of the effort. Falkner also shown with dignity and pride in this yard. I knew this was proving to be a touchy topic to pock fun at. His eyes dared me to, though my heart couldn't work up the effort. He looked so cute with his jaw set tight and his eyebrows drawn together slightly.

"Impressive." I allowed. "But where are all the birds?"

"In the nesting boxes im sure… and in the trees over there." He pointed to a bunch at the further end of the pond. "Some of them still like to fly south for the winter as well… a couple left yesterday."

"Will they come back?" I wondered. Birds were a mystery to me, a world I never bothered to even glance at because until now it had seemed quite boring. I didn't understand Falkner's love for them, so I was eager to understand. Thinking hell, maybe if I strapped a pair of fake wings on he would love me too. There must be a particular reason he was so fond of these creatures. If I could be like them…

"I never know for sure…" He sighed. "But if they don't then I'm glad they got the chance to fly away and be happy…"

Such devotion and honesty, would he ever show me the same kind of respect? I couldn't help but admire him for being so careful about this whole thing. I could see it on his face; just how limited those emotions were. He feared for his birds. He loved for his birds too. Falkner ate, drank, slept, breathed, and pissed for those birds. He was by all means something of extraordinary.

"Do you ever wish you could fly away?" I wondered, eyes darting back and forth across his yard as a ghost seemed to be playing with my eyes. Walter wanted me to leave so bad it was actually hurting him. I couldn't understand though. Why go through such trouble just to make me leave? It wasn't as if I was—ok maybe I was planning on doing some stuff but that was beside the point. He's dead, I'm alive. That's a pretty huge difference that wouldn't MAKE a difference.

Falkner laughed a sarcastic, nervous laugh. "Every day…All day long. When I sleep I dream about flying, when I wake up I feel like I've dropped like a…cement…brick."

"But you never do?" I assumed quietly. "Why don't you?"

"What do you mean? I fly all the time… not as much as I'd like to, but… a lot still." Large aqua eyes turned up at me, and I breathed a lovely sigh of relief to know that they weren't too concerned. Walter was hissing in my ear now, making my skin crawl for ever suggesting that Falkner fly away and leave this place.

However I was not so inept when it came to peoples hidden dilemmas. Falkner may not realize it yet, but he was being trapped here by his father's death. Falkner was in a state of mind though, in which he couldn't get over the initial beliefs he was brought up on. He truly, honestly, with all his heart believed that he was supposed to run this gym and be the man his father way. He had huge shoes to fill and so far nothing but a pair of small feet.

"Morty?" Falkner murmured while I zoned out, listening to the sound of his angry father raging in my ear.

Get away

Don't come back

Fuck you, you fucking faggot

"Yeah?" I blinked, swallowing and ignoring the harassment. Personal much? I couldn't stand this! Ghosts were supposed to adore me because I could communicate with them, not antagonize me about my sexuality!

"You look kind of pale…" He observed.

Because your father thinks it's ok to pick on me!

"I'm fine." I shook my head. "Show me your bedroom."

"What? Why?" He jolted back in surprise. "Morty… no."

I took a long breath, letting it sink deep and fill my lungs luxuriously before blowing out and releasing the tension in my body. Falkner's seemed to wither away for the moment, displeased by my oblivious calm. "Would it really be so bad…? Falkner?" I tilted my face down to his, lips parting slightly.

"Yes." He insisted, turning away from me and heading back towards his sliding glass door. I caught it to make sure he wouldn't try and lock me out (though I'd love to see him try).

"Why?" I growled after him. "Because I'm a guy? You mean to tell me if this was Jasmine here you wouldn't hesitate?"

"I never said that! Stop putting words in my mouth." He shot back with a glare.

"Then what is your problem?" I kept on him like a police growlithe sniffing out drugs. "Are you not allowed?" Had his father made it his dying wish for his son never to like anyone? Never to have sex with anyone? Never to do ANYTHING with anyone?

"I'm eighteen!" he hissed, as if that was some snide remark about his obvious young age. He was a few years younger than me, not quite at the peak of his existence yet but well over puberty and into the masculinity of a young adult. He was… terribly infatuating.

"That doesn't mean anything." I shook my head. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to show you the way out." His face twisted down into a scowl. Bipolar much? He seemed extra jittery today.

"But I don't want to leave."

"But I want you to."

I racked my brain for anything to make him change his mind… I didn't need sex—though it was at the top of my list—I just needed him to show me some reason to want him at all. I didn't think Falkner realized just how ok I was with just holding him, or kissing him, or touching him! Whatever he wanted, I didn't care of put my preferences on the line. I just… wanted something.

"Let's go get drinks." I suggested. "And don't say you don't drink because keeping track of so much work is impossible without a little buzz now and again right?"

"Morty… get out." He opened the door and stood waiting, gesturing for me to step through the entryway and allow him to shut it on my face.

I shook my head. "Tell me why not."

"I don't have time to go get drinks." He insisted.

"Then you obviously have more work to do and I can help you with it." I perched my lips together tightly, wishing that particular stubborn pride hadn't been passed down from father to son. The navy haired boy needed a break. From the looks of it, he needed a good long break too.

"Don't make me regret being your friend." Falkner gestured again, eyes falling flat and chin down in desperation. "Yo—you can't do what you do to me."

"And why not?" I hissed, reaching above his head to push the door closed again. Together in the darkened entryway I rounded on him, pushing one arm up besides his head and leaning in to look at those aqua eyes. "Do you really hate it that much?"

He didn't answer. "Morty… stop."

"Answer me."

"No."

I glared. "You are so stubborn. How can I know what to do with you if you won't give me an answer?"

"I told you exactly what I wanted out of you." He snorted softly. "To leave."

"But you don't mean it." I whispered. "You want me to stay… actually. You want me to kiss you right now; I can see it in your eyes."

"You obviously don't know how to read people." His lips pinched together into a delicate frown, eyes flickering back and forth between mine and his feet while I leaned in closer to him.

"Then why don't you fight me? You could push me away here…" I brought my hand forward while I whispered into his neck. My hand grazing up his torso, feeling between the soft material of his shirt to the little perked nub at his chest. My thumb made a tentative circle into his nipple while I opened my mouth to kiss his jaw.

His awkward hands shot up between us and he was caught in the mix of trying to push me away while also shuddering to a halt against my own chest. I nipped at his neck once before pulling back to look him in the eyes.

"Morty…go." Falkner choked. "I—I want you to go!"

I wasn't nearly as fazed by the horrible things Falkner's father was saying, in comparison to those words he had just insisted. Falkner actually meant it that time, and my heart seemed to sicken and die with the thought. Part of me wanted to rape him up a wall right then and there, but the other part held no attraction to the indecency. Falkner had every right to reject me if he wanted to.

I pushed both my hands on the wall besides his head and leaned in gently to kiss his forehead once, twice, three or four times before sighing. "You're going to end up calling me this time… You are going to miss me. I know you will."

He just shook his head as I backed away and grabbed his door handle, clicking it open and swinging out. I loped down his front porch steps with a snort, shutting the door fiercely and baring my teeth at the ever so smug dead man before me. He stood arms crossed, happy to know his son was so bound by the chains be put on him that he couldn't even think for himself. Falkner could want me… if given the chance.

"Fuck you." I hissed at the spirit between my teeth, storming off and wishing just this once that I could die.

Falkner was my only real friend… how could I not adore him? How could I not want him under my hands? How could I let a ghost—the one thing that had spared me decorousness in the short years of my life so far—get in the way of that?

How could I not love Falkner?


	20. Chapter 20

~Morty~

It was a cold, breathless night in Ecruteak. A week after I owed it to myself to leave Falkner alone, and wait for his approval. The chill had set in, and I could nearly taste the frozen moisture in the air. Snow was on the way, threatening to break out into annual white fluff very, very soon. The next meeting happened to be tonight, but I refused to go to it and sit through another painful argument about where we all stand.

And so I was in Ecruteak, sitting on my roof watching the black sky as hovering clouds blocked out the light of the sun. Nothing was here to disturb me, no trainers wanted to battle, no annoying pedestrians to caste me strange looks; all was going well. At least for the moment I felt as if I could breathe again.

Falkner had been on my mind constantly since the last time I had seen him. His devotion to those birds and the simplicity of his house, it was all very well and strung up on my heart in the most bittersweet way. Falkner was stubborn, so he hadn't called me yet, but I wasn't giving up of course. I knew that after tonight he would have to break down and pick up his phone. I knew that…

I wanted that…

But what if Falkner was so stubborn that he wouldn't give himself the chance to rebound? What if he was actually better off without me? What if, what if, what if. All those damn questions running through my head while I sat on my roof staring out into the distance. The mountains weren't visible in this low light, but I knew I was looking in the right direction of the Indigo Plateau. Was Falkner there already? Was he holding Jasmine's hand?

I brought my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against them with a thud. Why was this so hard for me? I couldn't so much as look at myself in the mirror and know who I was anymore. Everything had left and transferred to Falkner without my permission. I had barely any emotions left within myself. They were all for Falkner.

What a terrible way to start the night off. Another eight hours of tossing and turning and hating myself for not taking Falkner while I had the chance. I kept thinking that maybe if I forced him to have sex with me he would see just how simply amazing it could be. If I had shown him more… if I had taken him in my hands…

Dammit… was that all I wanted? Did I really just want to have sex with Falkner that badly? OR was there a more underlying tone to my painting of emotions? I FELT like I loved him, but at the same time I knew it was just my dick talking. I hadn't experienced a thought about that boy without getting hard in a long time.

There was a time and place for jacking off however, and on my rooftop was not the place. I hated myself for having so much sexual steam to blow off, but really… what else did I have to do but wack off? I kept trying to tell myself I was a normal guy with these frustrations, but it wasn't working. I felt like maybe if I whispered Falkner's name to myself, he would somehow hear I wherever he may be. I felt like maybe he would be jacking off with me.

Of course that didn't put a good taste in my mouth. This would be the second time today, and hopefully more successful than the first. I stood with delicacy, flitting around my rooftop for the entrance back down into my gym. There was no obvious way to get from my side of the house to the roof, and so I relied on the gyms fire escape and poor layout to take me up to the wooden panels to over look the stars that did not shine tonight.

My feet nearly found the entrance when I sudden, small gust of air pushed my scarf and my hair back. Something was odd about the air tonight… it was filled with a sort of putrid… dead kind of smell. It was heavy, though no humidity carried it. I stopped and drank in the thick scent, turning my head and seeing, peering through the night for something that showed signs of unusual works.

All the quiet though… deathly quiet. Not even a ghost stirred in the late hour. It was one of those moments when in the back of your mind you were secretly thinking that an apocalypse was coming. Zombies or monsters or a mass murderer was on their way… maybe .

Things felt so out of place as I scanned the small, ancient town, looking timidly back and forth until I realized that I was smelling smoke, and that it was puffing up from a radiant orange glow in the distance. My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the warm, gentle lapping of light. It seemed to flicker and fade in and out of my view as I tried to squint to tell just what it was.

Another small burst of wind shocked me into realization. I was looking north wasn't I? The opposite end in which my gym faced… that meant…

"Shit." I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of me. The tower… the Brass tower was on fire!

My heart erupted into an unsteady drumbeat of fear as I watched, scrambling for the ladder aside my gym and understanding now that flames were licking the fragile wooden walls of the place I loved. All those ghosts… all those innocent souls that had died in that tower one already…

I had known one or two ghosts to disappear in my short lifetime, and I wasn't so stupid to know that it was their death place that could make or break them. Unlike the living, most ghosts have the immobility to leave the place they died. That would be why a small child still smiled a cotton candy grin, long after he was poisoned. Or why a young woman still dripped with blood from a chest wound that could not be fixed. That was why bruisers in the bar on the second floor never stopped playing darts and drinking alcohol. They were frozen… burdened by invisible chains.

Ghosts disappeared with their homes though… I knew that from an experience a long while ago when they tore down the orphanage I lived in and sent spirits scattering for their precious afterlives. I had been one of few children never to be adopted because of my abilities—the reason I was labeled as a "freak"—and I remembered vividly the construction on the sight of that horrible place. I had a ghost friend there… someone who kept me company while I always felt so alone. That friend had been lost in the reconstruction… I never saw him again.

My feet could carry my far when my mind was wandering aimlessly in horror, and while that tower was not more than a couple miles from here, I felt as if I was running forever. My feet scuffed the sidewalks as I hurdled down the black streets, knowing where to go despite there being very few and far between streetlights. I had taken this dirt path many times before, but never once so frightening as now.

The ghosts that had lived in the forests around here were silent with grief, barely approaching my vision as Gengar appeared a slinking black shadow beside me. My two Gastly followed fearfully, while my Haunter was already ahead, investigating the smoke that burned at my eyes.

Oh Arceus… there was so. Much. Smoke.

The huge wooden doors of the tower were wide open, spewing smoke as I pushed past the barrier. My heart was aflame with worry, just like the whole upper floor of this massive building. It was a hotel in its prime, a hot battle spot a dozen or so years ago, and now it was going to all end in tragedy. All those ghosts…. Those poor…. Screaming ghosts.

I could hear children wailing for their dead mothers, husbands howling for wives lost, pokemon of all shapes and sized yelping in terror. Their spirits cut through the soot filled air wild and fast, trying to attack but finding it useless without the bodies they once left years and years ago. Between the crooked hardwood flooring and the slick stucco that lined the counter furthest to me, I couldn't bring myself to stand upright in the mess.

It was black and ashy everywhere, while I could only just feel the heat of red, angry flames licking the walls and threatening to make the tallest floor crumble down upon me. I knew about a basement below me, however do to a very angry and hostile creature that was stored there once upon a time, I never made it very far in. The pokemon looked to be something of a giant, despite its unintelligent eyes and its stone hard body I knew that it could bring this place down all on its own. I never got the chance to know if it was actually dead or not, but I knew that regardless of now, it would be…

Everyone would be.

"NO!" I rasped, grasping at my tight chest and coughing madly. "No! Dammit—N—no!" There was nothing I could do though. I had to surrender myself to these ghosts and die with them, or get the hell out while my legs still carried me.

The sounds of people crying haunted me, wild and terrorized and nipping at my ankles as I stumbled back, stepping crookedly and losing the battle against gravity. The wood flooring moaned and snapped between the crackling fire inching towards me. All the mighty spirits screamed and screeched for wanting, begging me—their sole friend—to save them.

To have dozens of shrill voices calling out to you… and you can't do anything for them because they were already dead… that was the hardest part. No one had ever related to me like ghosts did, and I was about to let them all down.

A pair of wide, cotton candy eyes peered through the hole in the first floor down at me; fore I had fallen through a swift lick of flames to the basement below. My head cracked against the cement while blackness exploded momentarily past my eyes. Down here all hell was breaking loose. I could hear the distant sound of a roar, some gurgling snarling vicious hate-filled noise that made my eyes ring. I shuddered, scrambling at the ground in my pain and pooling blood as the fire singed the ends of my scarf and fingers.

I had landed damn near close to the flames that started all of this, so close that I couldn't contain myself. I gasped out, rasping and trying to yell for help. Where was the fire department? The police? Anyone in this damn town that could help!?

"Hey!"

A voice beyond the crackling called out to me. Some, strange, high pitched musical voice.

"HEY! HELP!" It wailed. "I—IM TRAPPED!"

No… no more yelling… the ghosts, I couldn't save them… there was no point.

"I—I don't want to die! HELLO?"

Don't want to-? MY head reeled. Someone alive? Someone here? The cement behind my head spun when I tried to push up, and blood soaked the back of my head, but it was no challenge. My instinct, the sudden intense distrust to the voice I was hearing. Someone obviously begging for help, and yet…

I realized that someone obviously started this fire down here in the basement, and it was stretching upwards until the floor above us was starting to crumble and turn to ash. I was livid at such reckless actions. No one ever came to this tower… so whoever was here must have started this.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" I snarled into the smoky clogged air. It felt flammable on my skin, making me itch terribly.

"TRAPPED!" The high pitched voice screeched back at me.

I whirled to the only space in the basement that wasn't engulfed in flames. A small storage room with the door slammed shut. Embers littered the ground I walked on, and every step brought with it a new and terrifying ghost presence that wailed to me. They were all dying…

Ghosts were dying… how? I wasn't sure but their spirits were being killed.

I fell into the door heaving, wheezing and choking and gagging at the fumes. How the hell did someone get stuck in a storage closet? I smashed my fists into the door harshly, wishing I had more strength. Fuck this… fuck whoever was in there…

If it wasn't for the fact that I wanted to strangle them for starting a fire in my beloved Brass Tower I wouldn't have bothered. My hands were burning and scraped with wood chips stuck in them while I pried past the lock and shoved up on the plank blocking the hinges. My eyes were nearly completely shut now. The gooey mess made my lids stick together.

I stepped back and let the door swing open in one fluid movement, revealing to be the skinny frame of a man who looked half waterlogged in his own tears. His hair was slicked back, his eyes a foggy pale blue, and his lips pink and plump with agitation. He had blood strewn through his hair, which resembled the obstruction on the back of my spinning head. He must have fallen into the basement as well…

My head was not thinking clearly at all now. Not with the pain of knowing every single soul that ever cared about me was now dying. Withering away with the flames of this building. Fury as strong as the fire tugged at my heart, making me irrational.

I took one look at the pale, feminine guy before me and ripped my arm back, fist and all, shaking with gritted teeth.

"Thank you SO—

I hit him. Decked him right in the jaw and made his head snap to the side until he was limp, slipping to the ground with lolling eyes. He bowed at my feet in unconsciousness, thankful that I just saved his pathetic life. Serves him right for starting my tower on fire…

Weak and shaking I bent over, hunched onto my knees and cursing. There was no stairway in here… or at least not one that I could see. Lightheaded and disturbed with cataclysmic event I slumped forward, thumping on the ground while I could feel my feet growing numb and my hands bloody and torn apart. Was this the end? Was this all I had to give to the precious companions that were trapped in this now burning tower?

It had started out such a cold night in this quiet town, and now all I could feel was burning. My head was throbbing, still matted with blood along the back where my headband was soaked. I must have had a concussion or something… hell maybe I was going into shock, or into a coma. Or maybe it was the fact that some chick-ish guy had ruined so much for me. Maybe that was why I was blacking out.

My eyes went out long before my mind did, and I could still feel every stabbing pain in my body as flames started to nip around me. I was going to burn to death…

If I had just gone to that fucking meeting tonight…I would have never known this to have happened… I could have waited to see the devastation, though I would have regretting now being there while it was up in flames, I would have still been alive. Unlike now… I felt so dead it wasn't even funny.

And I had always been like a ghost… but… where do ghosts go after their souls are destroyed? Heaven? Hell? Was there even such a world? I didn't believe in such religious things all the time, but I never was skeptical of them in particular. I believed that some things were just not meant to be discovered in our lifetime. I believed…

I wasn't sure what to believe actually… not while the ghost around me silenced their screams and waiting. My body was so hot…

If I had just gone to that fucking meeting…

Fuck… why was I so stubborn?

If my eyes would have allowed me to cry I would have. I would have put my heart out there and said that I was stupid and wrong and everything I ever did was just a problem. I would have truly admitted defeat to the things that had corrupted me since the beginning of autumn and so on. Up until this moment I had done nothing but messed up…

Falkner…

I thought about Falkner as I lay unconscious in the crumbling tower basement, waiting the moment of truth in which I would truly never live again.


	21. Chapter 21

~Falkner~

We had all been intent at the gym leaders meeting last night when the fire in Ecruteak came on the breaking news. It was only some odd coincidence that Chuck had insisted on watching his recorded soap opera through his laptop because a battle had come up during the time it was on earlier. Clair had been viciously nagging at the man, making us shriek in laughter as the fighting gym leader wanted to view such dramatic things. Sadly I had to agree with Clair this time, because it had been so damn funny for all of a second. Even listening to Bugsy trying to defend his hefty best friend (who I still thought he had a sexual relationship with) was hilarious.

Of course it was short lived until we all peered in on Chuck's laptop home page to see that google was supplying us with life saving information. Clair, Bugsy, Chuck, Whitney, Jasmine, and even Pryce had stared in terror at the news report of a fire destroying the brass tower in Ecruteak. There was no further information given at the time, but we had all—despite our differences—managed to pull together swiftly and act upon our actions.

Clair had run off as fast as she could to find Lance, who could fly the other gym leaders to the destruction with his team of dragonite, and while they waited I had taken off on my own. Pride was the fastest, strongest bird I ever trained and so it was to no avail that I got there way ahead of time.

My heart had been aching when I saw that the roof of the massive Brass Tower had come crumbling down, and I could see a distinct hole all the way through into the basement, where in the right light I managed to spot Morty through the frantic smoke and roaring flames. I had never been so scared in my life.

Morty… Morty who I hadnt talked to in over a week, was most likely supposed to be dead when I found him, but somehow I managed to sweep in through the flames that had barely begun to latch onto his clothes. I remembered vividly how the fire scorched the ends of his scarf, ripping them to near shreds and making the fabric coil up and crumble away.

"MORTY!" I had shook the ghost trainer violently before dragging him onto Pride's back and having the fearless bird bring him to safety. I didn't know if it was just a body at the time, or if Morty still had a chance, but I knew that I had been a wreck.

Replaying every sickening memory in my head, thinking that the last thing I would have said to Morty was for him to get out of my house. I was completely guilty about what happened between us, and it was only after forcing myself not to cry did I realize that I was not the only one left stranded in that smoke filled basement. I stepped on the hand of someone else—who also looked very dead—and just barely managed to pull him to safety with me when Pride came back.

By the time I had gotten Morty and the stranger to safe grounds I myself had passed out because of the toxic fumes, but woke up a little later when Lance had cradled me in his huge arms and hoisted me up onto a hospital stretcher. The last thing I remembered was thinking that I wasn't going to make it, and then changing my mind when a tiny shriek caught my attention and Zephyr landed on my strapped, but bare chest.

I knew that at that moment I would not die because no one would take care of mine and my father's birds. If there was any reason in the world for me to survive it was that. And more or less I was just too damn stubborn to let death take me. I wasn't ready to leave this world, not while I was finally just getting into it. I promised myself as my bloody hand twitched, tightening between something that felt soft. I didn't know at first, but came to find out later that it was Jasmine who had been there in the ambulance with me.

Nothing else pertained to the eight hours more that I was completely knocked out. Not just because my lungs were weak and they had me resting with breathing machines, but because I was mentally exhausted. All that time there was nothing but blackness, not even a dream to disturb me, and yet I had woken up feeling like not a second hand gone by since I left that burning tower.

Everyone was hovering when I woke. All six other gym leaders holding flowers in their arms and Jasmine especially close to me. She cried again, but this time it was with relief as she squeezed my bandaged hand and laughed a sort of shaky laugh.

The first words out of my mouth hadn't been appreciation for the friends that cared about me, it hadn't been tears of my own, and it hadn't been about the immense pain I was in. I had asked where Morty was, just like that with my raspy smoke-filled chest wheezing with effort. No one said anything at first, which made me assume that I had been too late, and that Morty was already dead.

I thanked Arceus when finally Pryce spoke up and said that no one knew if he was going to make it, that he had gone into a coma late last night and that there was nothing the doctors could do in the meantime. It was then that I really broke down around all the other gym leaders who shed very few and far between tears with me. I had made myself sick with grief, hating every ounce of my human being because I knew that this was all my fault.

If I would have called Morty at some point he wouldn't have skipped out on the meeting that night, and he wouldn't have seen the tower burning and he wouldn't have gone into a coma because of me. I forced the morbid truth upon myself in that hospital bed, blaming everything on myself and hurting, throbbing with at the agony of knowing that I had lost the one person who relied on me to be his friend. He lost everything because of me.

A day went by, long and careful and completely stoic. The hospital told me to rest up while I was here, and that they wouldn't dare charge me for any extra days because of what I had done. Everyone seemed to think that I was the big hero in this situation, because it had been me to bring Morty from the tower to "safety" or more likely a comfortable death bed. I wanted to rip my hair out everyone dare try and comfort me. This was no place for that.

I wanted to dwell. I wanted to suffer.

Two more days later and the only thing that had been spoken to me was about Morty's heartbeat being bipolar, which apparently was a good thing because it meant that his brain was functioning accurately, and that when he woke up he wouldn't be damaged mentally. That is… if he woke up at all.

Clair and Lance had gone back home first, followed shortly by Chuck and Bugsy, and later Whitney announced that if she didn't get out of here soon SHE would die. I couldn't blame her… the smell of medicine was quite potent to those who didn't have it in their systems. And not to mention she had a horrible phobia of needles. I was glad to see her go, simply because she was acting the most normal of all of them.

She had cried in grief with me, she had refused to look when they put an IV in my arm, and she had even claimed having to eat when the others wanted to stay by my side. I appreciated that Whitney was able to overlook the "hero" everyone was thinking I was. Clair also went back to normal after the first day, telling me to shut the hell up and get over it because in all honesty… if she were in my place she would be thriving in the attention. She didn't like that I was so unhappy with it, and I was alright with that. I would rather have her mad at me than coddling me like Jasmine.

Bugsy and Chuck were a bit out of place the whole time, but they were the ones giving me the doctors word on Morty so I figured it wasn't worth it to be mad at them for trying to comfort me. At least with them I knew that Morty was still alive…

Jasmine stayed with me until her eyes were dull and lifeless with exhaustion, and the doctor—agreeing with me—ordered her home. It was peace and quiet for a short while, almost a whole day, until she was back again claiming she couldn't sleep. This time I snapped at her and said quote: _If you don't fucking leave me alone Jasmine-!_

Those were the only words I got out before she turned tail and fled, sobbing and making me regret it instantly. I was completely selfish in the sense of not wanting help, but that itself couldn't be helped. I didn't want her there… I didn't want anyone there.

So long hours alone went by again, failing me, shutting me down with nightmares and sever grief "attacks" as a foreign therapist with spiky honey colored hair and forest green eyes had said one morning after observing me. I was so secluded into myself that nothing felt right anymore. I hadn't the time of day to give anymore.

That is… until Pryce came to me personally one afternoon, speaking in a voice so determined I couldn't choose not to listen.

"You listen to me boy." Pryce hobbled over in his old age, tapping the room door shut with his cane and sitting at my bedside. I was propped up on my own, hunching over and fighting the intensity of hunger once again. I couldn't manage to eat anything without vomiting.

I looked up at Pryce, the one gym leader who I hadn't considered being here. Part of me wanted to tell him to go away as well, but the other part was relieved to have someone of his age and wisdom to talk to. Plus he was not sympathetic towards me, he seemed rather pissed off actually.

"You know what trouble I went through to get this?" He scooted forward slowly, stretching his hand forward and setting a pokeball in my lap.

I stared in confusion for a long second, picking up the ball and turning it around in my hands. It was white with a blue lid, so it was obviously my father's ball, but it looked unused and almost new.

"Open it son." Pryce insisted. "You need it."

I swallowed hard before clicking the ball with a flinch. It was against hospital rules to have pokemon here, however I was sure Pryce managed to finagle his way into letting him bring that to me. A blast of lovely white light erupting into the dark world that I had fallen into.

"Ma—Mama Bird?" My eyes filled with tears as the old Pidgeot perched herself before me, eyes tender and soft and so loving that it took my breath away. I wasn't sure how Pryce managed to pinpoint something so critical like this for me, but if all else was failing I figured he just had a way…

The brilliant old bird slunk towards me on the bed, fluffing up her wings and stretching her neck out to rub against me. Her thin feathers felt like the tips of thousands of tiny paintbrushes whisking at my skin, and through the pain and regret of everything that happened in the last two days I couldn't bring myself to be angry in the slightest.

"Tha—thank y—you." I sobbed to Price while clinging to the only mother I had ever known. My father's beloved Pidgeot meant more at this moment than anyone else did. I hadn't even realized it, but seeing my birds again was exactly the kind of medication I needed. Heaviness lifted from my heart as if we had taken flight, and though the grief still sat there in my throat I felt relieved.

"Well son. Let me tell you something." Pryce cleared his throat gruffly. "Has anyone here asked you what your father would say in an instance like this?"

Those words pierced me hard as I shook my head, trying but failing to look the old gym leader in the eyes. I had been trying my hardest to keep my father out of this whole thing. I didn't want to think about how he would tell me to get over it and move on. I didn't want to think about how he would scold me for not leaving the hospital and going home to make sure the birds were ok and cared for. He would have been heartless to the fact that I felt as though I had lost someone close to me.

"Well…" Pryce muttered. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but I'm going to say it anyways… Falkner your father and I were very close in our youth, and he bestowed it in me to look after you after he passed away. Now I knew that I couldn't just take over your life like that, so I stayed back, watching and hoping you wouldn't get yourself into trouble. You are a good kid Falkner; your father knew that better than anyone else, why? Because he made you that way."

I bit my lip, holding back sobs. "Bu—but Morty—

"Now here is the thing." Pryce cut me off. "Falkner you are not the same person your father was. You're heart is much, much too soft. You care, something your father found very hard to do in his lifetime, other than for birds that is. You see, son, this is your downfall, but my goodness is it a powerful one."

I didn't understand what he was trying to tell me, so I just stayed quiet, ripping the ends of my fingernails off nervously, tears slipping past my chin as Mama Bird gently sorted through the mess of my hair.

"Falkner…" Pryce said very quietly to me. "I know you care about Morty. And I know that the only reason you are still here in this hospital is because you won't leave until he's either dead or wakes up."

How? I found myself wondering how Pryce could read me so easily. How did he know my subconscious reasons?

"I think you need to go see Morty for yourself." Pryce suggested. "Try talking to him… you know they can still hear you in a coma."

"I—I don't know wha—what to say to him…" I shook my head. Was I supposed to apologize for never calling him? For rejecting him in the first place? My heart was is a horrible knot.

"You see now… that's another thing you are better at than your father was." The old trainer chuckled darkly. "You know how to use your words. That's also something… very powerful."

I could only bite my lip and shake. There was no answer to the things Pryce said to me. It seemed far too impersonal from my side, and yet he was so very personal to my father. He seemed to know more about the both of us than I did. I cursed at myself as he went to stand, sliding his thick old hand onto my shoulder and gripping tightly as if to reassure me. His touch was both comforting and demanding.

"Tha—thank you." I choked out as he caned his was over to the door.

Pryce cackled darkly. "You really are nothing like your father."

But I didn't understand… I had always been the spitting image of the man that raised me and birds. I was constantly wondering what to do and what he would have said to me had he been there. Since the day he died I was thinking that maybe I could live up to his expectations, fill his shoes and be the master bird trainer he once was.

Pryce made it sound as if I wasn't cut out to be that man… and yet he was happy about it. It was as if he wanted me to fail in a loving kind of way. I couldn't understand… I just didn't get it.

Mama Bird crooned to me—her original baby—softly while nuzzling my shoulder and soaking up my tears. I hugged and held her tightly, muttering thanks and love you's and deciding right then and there that I didn't need to know what Pryce meant, so long as I knew what I had to do now.

I had to see Morty.


	22. Chapter 22

~Falkner~

The hallways were quiet and cold as I walked through them barefooted and shaky. My head was in a whirl, and though I felt obligated to do this in every way possible, I was completely and utterly terrified as to what would happen. Morty wasn't so far gone that he couldn't hear the words people said to him—or so the doctors said—but was I really one to believe that I could get through to him? Pryce seemed convinced that with a little persuasion I could bring Morty out of his coma. He told me that Morty had no other reason to wake up, and that alone had me fretting.

How could Pryce know that Morty liked me so much? Granted it was probably because he wanted sex or something… he still thought of me as his one and only friend and that was enough for me. I was willing to put sexual tension aside and just let this happen. Hell… maybe Pryce had a point.

I wasn't sure what I was feeling at the moment, or what I had been feeling the night of the fire… and how scared I had been for Morty. I had risked my own life for him, and if I couldn't save him… if this didn't play with a better ending I would forever be broke. There was no healing without Morty. I would carry this guilt… these feelings for Arceus knows how long.

Dressed in a pair of far too big sweats and a milky white tshirt I slunk down the halls, shivering as the tile floor made my feet numb. I wasn't sure what I would find once I entered his room, but with Mama Birds warm pokeball in my pocket I felt slightly better about going. She would be with me… in a sense.

However much I knew that she would be there though, I knew that I had to do this alone. I had to stand up for what happened and the guilt I was feeling in order to let it all go. There was a short period of concentrating on Morty's room door before actually reaching out to it. The beeping of monitors from the inside both frightened and soothed me. That meant that he was still alive, but not stable enough to breathe on his own yet.

I hesitated with great deliverance, forcing myself to believe that this would end well, and that there was going to be a brighter side to everything. I bit my lower lip, begging to Arceus to let Morty be ok. I had to tell him that I was sorry… I had to tell him that this game of rejection was over.

The doorknob was cold under my touch, but I pushed it open bravely and made sure it was shut tight before moving a step closer. My eyes were rounded on the floor for a long second, and it took two shaky breathes before I could look up and see the seemingly beautiful man on the bed before me.

Morty never looked so… pure. His chest was uncovered, laced in wire, while his lower half was just piled on my sheets. His skin looked soft and dull in comparison to the large blooming bruises across his shoulders, not to mention the various raw patches of fleshy skin where his forearms had been exposed to the fire. I looked away with a short sob, briefly piercing my lower lip with my teeth and aching from head to toe. Everything was so calm… as if he was already dead.

"M—Morty." I choked out after looking around for other people. I wasn't sure just who had been here to see Morty in the last few days, but it all seemed to desolate. It felt almost wrong to speak when there was nothing but a monotone beep to answer you.

Didn't Morty have a family? A mother or father who loved him? Or at the very least cared enough about him to come see him? Did he has siblings? Cousins? ANYONE who could come visit him? I felt like someone twisted the knife jammed in my heart when I noticed there were no get well cards, flowers, or anything of the sort around his bedside. Not even the gym leaders seemed to have left him anything.

Didn't they think that just this once it was worth it to put their differenced aside and be there for Morty? Didn't even one of them care about making him feel better? Coma or not… if he woke up and found himself alone then what would he think? Hot tears fell down my cheeks for the hundredth or so time today.

I was just as much to blame for Morty being alone. I was in walking capability two days ago and I hadn't gotten out of bed to do anything other than piss or vomit. That was my mistake… I should have been here.

"Morty… I—I'm so sorry." I knelt at his side, staring down at his gentle features. The usual line between his eyebrows was gone, smoothed out in all his peaceful slumber. Morty was never a very soft looking person. The extent of his usual pretense didn't go much further past lust and perversion, however while he was so delicate and asleep like this… I could no longer see the Morty that once pinned me up against a brick wall and fondled me. I didn't see anything other than him… right there in front of me.

Bruised, broken, lifeless…

"Can—can you hear me?" I shook violently, reaching out to touch the pale skin on the back of his hand where ire had not turned his skin rough. It was actually very soft under my fingertips, softer than I remembered. "Th—the doctors said you could hear…" I rasped. "So listen…"

My fingers slid between his, tightening until it felt like maybe he was holding back. I leaned forward with the motion, laying my forehead atop the stack of fingers. "I'm sorry." I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "So sorry…"

The regret came pouring then, in soft broken sobs that I couldn't control.

"I—I shouldn't have ignored you. I—I should ha—have called. I wish I could have st—stopped this. But—But I… I thought about you. Morty… I thought a lot! I thought about how much I wanted to call you… and how much it would have meant. B—but what I didn't know was what you really wanted. D—do you want sex?" I spluttered, straining myself into his hand with mine. "Wh—why does it f—feel like that's a—all you want?"

I had been lying to myself for a week now, trying to figure a way around missing Morty while we didn't talk. I had been trying to understand just what he wanted out of me, and when my thoughts turned to sex every time I felt hallow to accept. I had never had a relationship with anyone before, not even a girlfriend, let alone someone of the same gender. I didn't know how to react to that. I was so focused on the things in my own world that I had completely overlooked the possibilities of other people entering it.

Sex education in my household had been "Go check the nests for eggs!" which my father used to yell around springtime every year. It was never made clear to me just how those eggs were made—not until I finally looked it up one day on google—but I felt as though I had known all along that those mysterious hidden organs were a part of the process. I was fifteen at the time when I found out, and a year went bye of me not having the slightest clue what "gay" even meant. That was something I also looked up on my own.

Though I had never been disturbed by the images people put up on the internet, I was actually quite baffled by it. I had felt as though no other teenage boy in the world had the same "inflation" problems that I did until I saw just how normal it was. Every human male on the planet—with the exception of very few—had penises. Hell even all the male pokemon had penises—again with the exception of very few—and I couldn't bring myself to fear that. I knew I wasn't alone; I discovered the terms, I knew the lingo, I even watched horrifyingly graphic videos that portrayed all the tricks we could do with our bodies. By seventeen I was sure I knew everything there was to know… and yet I never once considered myself as a sexual person.

I didn't put the pieces together until now though. It was never a question in my mind that I was straight—that I should love women and men, but I recalled my father drilling that into my head for years on end. He used to see me out in the field beyond Lavender Town—the same field he was buried in now—and I would be poking at dandelions and fuzzy wish-makers. I would collect them sometimes, thinking that I could take them home and preserve them for when I needed a wish most. Sure at the time I was only six or so years old, but it felt as though my father had been wary from the start.

Well my fuzzy wish-makers and tiny yellow dandelions would die and I would just wonder if that was a bad omen or something. My father said wishes didn't come true anyways, and that making them was foolish when you could pursue them. He used to tell me that a "man" wouldn't stoop as low as to put his hopes and dreams into "weeds". I respected him for trying to make me a man, so I listened, it was that simple.

I realized now that he was just trying to stop me from going down a path he didn't agree with. My father spoon-fed me talk about being a "man" and living for yourself and not taking help from others without a damn good reason. He had tried so hard to keep me innocent about love and relationships, while only pushing work and dedication on me instead. He wanted my whole life to revolve around the birds, and so it did.

And don't get me wrong. I loved my birds more than anything else in the world, nothing could ever change that. I just wished my father would have known that ahead of time. He didn't have to force me to love those beautiful flying creatures more than other human beings; I would have done that on my own. And yet he did do that… he stopped me from being the person that I was born to be and I didn't even know it.

Sobbing with my revelation I looked up at Morty's relaxed face. "Mo—Morty I don't n-know what it means to be gay." I choked. "I—I do—don't even—feel—li—like I am."

And t was true. I didn't feel gay in the slightest. As if that could make me less of a man… I felt completely normal actually. Just because my sexual intentions perked up around a different gender… that shouldn't mean anything. Right? I didn't talk any different than all the other straight guys; I didn't dress different, or think different, or battle, train, or work any different than anyone else. I was capable, strong, devoted… so why had my father put me down so much?

"B—but Mo—Morty… I—I won't push you—you away, an—anymore." I tightened my grip on his hand. "I—If you j—just wake up."

How stupid was it to think that I could get him to wake up? Just because I was here, realizing things that I never thought plausible before, didn't mean that he would snap out of it. Gritting my teeth, lip quivering and rubbed my cheek against the palm of his hand. "W—wake up!" I begged.

There was no reply.

"N—now's not t—the time to be s—st—stubborn!" I rasped, pushing my lips into his wrist and kissing roughly. Could he feel me?

"P—please." I whimpered.

My heart was hammering in my chest, loud, obnoxious as it floundered around in hysterics. It seemed to skip every other beat, lashing it out with dangerous high pitched hiccups as my chest filled with pain. I clung to Morty with all my heart and soul, believing that if only for a moment he could feel it… if he could feel this pressure then he would wake up.

There was a terrible, painfully sharp skip-a-beat moment that was strewn out, hissing for mercy, squealing in the back of my mind until a pathetic little twitch made me jolt upright. My head whirled around, wide and glossy eyed as the monitors went flat line, and then to my astonishment, jerked upright again.

Who's heartbeat was eccentric? Mine or—

"Morty!" I gasped as his hand squeezed mine. This time it was not just a mild flinch, but a harsh, demanding squeeze that made my blood boil. "Morty! M—Morty!"

It took a thousand years and more for his eyelids to flicker open, but I waited, kissing the palm pf his hand and inside of his wrist and sniveling with both relief and agony. It was a sort of dreadful disbelief that kept me thinking I was imagining this for my own good—some dirty trick my mind was playing on me.

Morty's eyes slipped open though, and I watched as his irises lolled back into place before the hospital lights above him. He looked hazy and drugged, completely unaware of everything with a very small tightening of his lips. A grimace? Or a smirk? I couldn't tell, but I let out the breath I had been holding for three days now.

"You're alive!" I pushed up off my knees beside him and stood, leaning over to look into his dilated violet eyes. He didn't look exactly human, but that was a good thing. Morty never looked human.

"F—Falkner…" He hadn't the strength to cough and yet he was able to say my name. My tears fell to his throat as I blinked, unable to believe that this was happening to me.

A crippled smile turned up the corners of my mouth, and before I knew it I was leaning into kiss Morty. My mind was in a million different places at once so there was really no way I could figure out my actions, but I knew that it felt good. My chapped lips against his thin tender ones, the sweep of my tongue which came so naturally, the tingling sensation in my blood…

Morty sighed against me; so many unanswered questions in his eyes as I pushed my cheek against his softly, like a bird would to show affection to another.

I was a guy raised of simple manors. I was taught to be proud of who I was and never to give up. I was told that I would never get what I wanted out of life without fetching it myself. I was told not to take compliments lightly, but never to think that I was better than anyone else. I was raised and bred in the wings of beautiful birds, and yet it had taken me so long to realize just what that meant to me. Pryce was absolutely right when he said I wasn't like my father. Though a great man, my father never truly learned how to fly. He had all the basics in the world, but he hadn't had a sliver of faith. That was what made us different. I could grasp that now, as Morty tried to summon the words to ask where he was.

My father didn't believe that wishes could come true. He didn't believe in miracles.

But I did…


	23. Chapter 23

~Morty~

I was exhausted as ever, having not slept but been permanently frozen for three days straight. All my muscles ached to stretch, to get up and run and flex and drip with sweat; however my mind was completely against it. My eyes kept flickering shut, even while I tried to talk to Falkner, who spent far too long explaining what happened when he saved me from the fire.

I couldn't remember anything of the sort. The last memory I had was of myself sitting on my gym roof. I didn't remember the flames they spoke of, or the other person Falkner dragged out of the tower basement with me. I was completely mortified about the fire, and if it wasn't for the burns I suffered and the stitches in the back of my head, I wouldn't have believed them that I was even there at all. No one seemed to be making any sense.

"They still haven't figured out who started the fire… or what started it… and i—

"Falkner, shut up." I groaned, lazily looking up at him in the hospital bed. "Shut up before I punch you."

He frowned. "S—sorry…"

I sighed. "Kiss me."

This was the fourth or fifth time that I asked him to kiss me since he brought me out of the coma to begin with. And each time he did so gently, carefully and in brief time. I wanted more though, no matter how much my extra crispy dick felt at the moment. I was happy it was still fully functional, despite the soon-to-be scars around my pelvis and sides. Few flames had broken through to that part of me and it stung very badly. I couldn't move easily without the friction of my hips on fabric hurting.

"I—I…" Falkner bit his lower lip. Of course he would be getting tired of me ordering him around like this, but he would never go as far as to say that he wouldn't do it. He was too happy I was alive. Or at least he was happy to know that he didn't have to live with the guilt of me being dead.

I waited, patiently as he leaned forward and pressed his head against my side. "Morty… how do you really feel?"

"Like shit, why?"

"No I mean about me… you keep wanting me to kiss you… or you want to touch me, but… do—do you l—

He cut off shaking his head, abruptly shifting forward to press his tight lips to mine again. They were not soft and passionate, but more so cold and dreading. I felt hideous inside for making him do this to me, and yet I was so damn selfish I couldn't stop myself.

"Let me kiss you." I whispered against his unmoving mouth. There was nothing I could do to get him to stay put right now. I could only insist. "Don't pull away."

There was a small muffled reply as he shifted over me, flinching but not backing away while I opened my mouth and carefully nibbled on his bottom lip. He breathed sharp, hot, medicine smelling breath into me, and with little reluctance allowed his teeth to part. I pushed my tongue upwards, trying to lean into him while finding it very difficult.

Kneading his lips with my own shouldn't have been so difficult, but it was and I hated it. This was not how a kiss was supposed to be. Eager and demanding I licked at his lips, hissing with achiness and snorting as my pelvis stung. Why of all times was it going to be physically hard to… well get hard?

"Kiss me… Falkner…" I groaned and begged. "Dammit."

His lip came hard then against mine, fierce with tongue as I willed my arms to move, shakily upwards until the pain was so good. I clutched at his hair and brought him to me fully, drowning his hesitation if seduction. Saliva exchange and hards all around, we plummeted. Down, down, down until air was needed and I was completely helpless. My eyes lolled with pleasure when he broke away, gasping.

"Falkner…" I shuddered. "Mnnn…"

"D—do you love me or not!?" Falkner sniffed, wiping his mouth from the saliva that dribbled down his chin.

I coughed softly, looking up at him with hazy eyes. Did I love Falkner? Well of course I loved Falkner. Maybe not in the most compassionate way… but it was still love. Or more like obsession.

"What does that matter?" I wondered. "If you loved me then me feelings wouldn't make a difference."

Falkner looked at me with his foggy aqua eyes, lip quivering as he tried to fight back the fragile emotions. He never showed himself to be so raw before now, and it was both daunting and cute in a way. I appreciated that I could make him so weak with just a kiss, but not in the sense in which he didn't enjoy it. I wanted Falkner to enjoy it… but either way I was going to pursue it.

"Cus—I would get hurt." Falkner admitted. "I—I would suffer if all you wanted was… this."

"You don't put much faith in me."

"You don't give me a clear answer!" He gripped my hand tightly to stifle his cries. "Morty… I—I won't do this… for lust."

Was Falkner really such a hopeless romantic? I looked at him curiously, knowing but still wondering—just in case I was wrong—that this was his first time ever being serious about anyone. The poor boy had virgin written all over his face. Unlike me who had ordered foreign bitches some long time ago and found them to be completely ridiculous (in both price and attitude).

"You'll do it for love though?" I asked, summoning up the buried romantic in me and dusting him off. I wasn't in it for all the fluff, but if that's what Morty wanted then I wouldn't object. "Falkner… really. Look at me."

He merely peeked up under his wet eyelashes, refusing to give me the satisfaction I wanted. I squeezed his hand gently.

"I'm a sexual person. I'm sure you figured that out a while ago. But that doesn't mean I just want sex." I offered. "If you want love instead of lust so be it."

He shook his head. "B—but do you?"

"Do I want your love?" I repeated in awe, my coarse voice crackling. "There's nothing else I want more."

"You don't just want sex?"

"If all I wanted was sex I would have taken it a long time ago… I had my chances" I remembered all the vague times he came over to my house. One being overnight on Halloween. I could have drugged him and slept with him quite easily then—I had even considered it at the time—but I didn't because I cared about his well being and mental state more than my own horniness.

"I—I just want you to say it." Falkner leaned down pressed his face into my palm. "If it's anything else I can't give you a chance…"

"Kiss me." I suggested.

He shook his head.

I had never told anyone I loved them before… so of course this was odd for me. Those words just didn't complete one another in the same sentence for me. Which was cruel of course, since Falkner didn't deserve to have to wait.

"I—I do…" I rasped to him.

"Then say it." He pressed his lips into my wrist, breathing unsteadily.

Fuck. I sighed. Where were those words? They were in my head and in my heart… but not in my mouth.

"I knew it… You don't." Falkner shook his head, pulling away and moving to stand up. "I—I need some air."

"Falkner!" I hissed as she turned around the foot of my bed quickly, wiping his eyes and storming out of the hospital room.

…

~Morty~

Two days later I was knocking on Falkner's door with irritation. He left in my in a hospital room until they were sure I was able to check out, and with ointment on my fucking ASS because of burns I made my way to Violet City just to find him. How dare he just leave me like that? After clearly saying that he wouldn't run away anymore… I shook my head as I beat on the door.

iYou shouldn't be here…/i

I flinched as Walter Hayato approached me from the outside of the house. He was on my case today obviously, ordering me away since he saw me coming up the street.

iYou're bad news. Stay away from my son!/i

The door creaked open slowly to reveal Falkner's gentle face. His eyes were wide and clear, though full of emotions I couldn't understand.

"I—I'm sorry." He repeated the words he had text me this morning. I knew that he would never again ignore me like he did before I was burned in the tower, but it didn't sit well to know that he was only just now texting me. I blinked attentively.

"Can I come in?"

i Stay out of my house!/i

I ignored the ghost's orders and stepped through the door as Falkner opened it. There were those familiar pictures hanging with feathers on my sides, and simply beige carpet below my feet. It felt strangely easy to be in his house, even after the way it ended last time I was here.

"Morty… look I know I shouldn't have just run away… but the birds and—I really had to just…"

"It's fine." I waved him off. "Don't worry about me."

"I—I want you to know that we can still be friends… even if you don't love me." Falkner's voice was just barely a whisper behind me, following carefully with his pidgey wrapped up in a tiny blanket against his chest. The bird looked socially traumatized and utterly pissed at the world. We sat away from each other on Falkner's large L shaped couch. The friction was painful.

"But you see, Falkner you're wrong to think that I don't." I muttered. "But anyways… how is the gym?"

He must have thought I wanted to avoid the topic completely, which was in a sense true… but the reason I wanted to avoid it was so that things could start to go back to normal between us. I vowed not to make him uncomfortable until I had more of a stable surface to work on. Falkner would come around; he rebounded well in comparison to some other people I knew.

"I was really behind…" The bird trainer stroked Zephyr's head with his finger gently. "All the birds were freaking out… Zephyr knocked himself out on the sliding glass door…"

I nearly laughed. Stupid bird… who runs into a door that hard?

"But its fine now?" I asked anyways.

"Just mad at me." Falkner sighed. "I guess I would be too though… How do you feel?"

Those precious round eyes looking over at me, awkward as if I would attack him, yet still caring. He was so different than anyone else when he looked at me. He acted as if I was really a person, and even after the things I did to him… really something.

"I feel…" I looked down, breathing in the smell of his fireplace and wishing I could remember what happened before I went into a coma. There was a deadly silence in that tower since I went back, and I wasn't sure what happened to the ghosts that lived there before. I had mourned silently for them while walking through the char-filled wooden beams. It was almost unrecognizable now, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever get the chance to see it for what it used to be again.

Personally I believed that everything happened for a reason, but without belief in a higher power I wasn't sure I could dignify that completely. So was it ignorant to say that me going into a coma was very valid in terms to not remembering the fire? Since I didn't remember anything, I had to fill in the blanks with my imagination. I had to wonder if the cotton candy faces child had cried in fear, or if impaled woman had frantically looked for her absent husband. Had the ghosts at the bar stopped throwing darts and scattered, tripping over one another in their forever drunken states? I was there to see it all at the time… and yet I couldn't even bear the burden of knowing who suffered.

If everything happened for a reason then going into a coma was only to spare me the guilt of knowing I had watched many, many souls be forever banished. It was as if I was never meant to see it in the first place.

"Morty?"

"Huh? Oh! I—I feel fine." I lied, knowing that I was not fine because I knew I should be feeling more traumatized than I was. I hated that I couldn't feel anything but sadness for the ghosts I lost. It was as if there was no part of me that understood. But I SHOULD have understood. I was there for Arceus sake…

I couldn't even remember how I passed out… or why I was in the basement. I didn't remember splitting the back of my head open; I didn't remember the other person who passed out with me. I couldn't recall ANYTHING.

"No you don't…" Falkner saw through my pretense. "Y—you look like hell."

I breathed, testing my lungs for the smoke that still lingered and trying to sigh without pain. "I uh… I guess I'm a little overwhelmed."

Falkner scowled, trying not to pity me, but trying not to look like he didn't care either. "Is it because you can't remember?" He murmured.

That and because you don't think I love you… because I can't physically say those words. "Uh… yeah." I chewed on the inside of my cheek attentively.

"Well… maybe in time you will?" He suggested, shifting so that the sleeping bird in its burrito wrap was sitting alone beside him. He moved to get up carefully so he wouldn't disturb. "I'm making hot chocolate. Want any?"

"Tea?"

"Never." Falkner scoffed sadly. "Tastes like dirt."

I chuckled darkly to myself as he went off into the kitchen. This wouldn't be the first time we had hot chocolate together, oh thought sadly it would be the first time without nuts. I withdrew into myself, laying my head against the back of his couch and staring at the silent ceiling fan above. At the very least I was happy—very thankful actually—that I still remembered my life from before the fire accident. If I had lost any more of my memory as far as short terms go, I probably wouldn't recall ever knowing Falkner. I wouldn't remember the first time I kissed him, or eating pistachios and drinking hot chocolate with him when his hand was broken. I wouldn't have been able to help him "break" that damn bird from Unova, which still wasn't broken.

There was so much more I could have lost in that fire, and if I didn't know any better I would have believed that it was an experience that made me more aware of how precious things could be. This was one of the first times I ever felt anything more than selfishness inside me. What if I would have lost Falkner? What if he would have been in my place? And he had actually died? How would I live with myself?

I listened intently to the sound of glasses clinking together in the kitchen while my mind wandered to the various outcomes I could have had. I could have died in that tower myself, and then I would have truly been a ghost. And what was worse about that was that I would be planted to my death bed and unable to see Falkner ever. I would be a spirit, and he would never be able to see me, but I would always see him. That was no way for anyone to live, let alone for anyone to love.

"Here." Falkner came back a moment later, two mugs in his nimble hands, leaning over the back of the couch to hand it to me.

I took it simply by the rim so it wouldn't burn me. Because that was all I needed—more burns. "How are you doing?" I wondered, reaching forward to set the mug on his coffee table. I wasn't one for sweets to begin with, and the temperature didn't appeal to me at all.

"What do you mean?" He swallowed nervously, trying to sip at his own drink but flinching away. This time he came around to sit closer to me, bringing his knees up and tucking them in so he was cross-legged.

"You were hurt too weren't you?"

He looked away sadly. "I… had a meltdown… but physically I was alright. Just a couple scratches and bruises."

"But you're done melting down now?" I shifted ever so slightly so that our thighs were touching. He blushed.

"Well…"

"I would be pretty shaken if I were you…" I allowed. "Of course… that's because I would have almost lost you."

Falkner couldn't look at me as I whispered, reaching up to brush his hair back behind his ear. It was soft and feathery as ever, a freshly washed smell flitting as a shifted the strands. I drank it in greedily, trying to wash the smell of burnt skin out of my head in replacement of this.

"Mmmn…" I moaned softly, tilting my nose along his jaw and shifting my arm to be around his back. I rubbed gently at the solid flat planes along his shoulders.

iSTAY AWAY FROM MY SON!/i

I jolted upright then, zapped with some kind of energy in which my eyes blacked out for a second and Falkner gasped, spilling a bit of the hot chocolate on his couch—it narrowly avoided his crotch.

"What?!" Falkner blinked rapidly at me, scrambling to get up without spilling more. Zephyr did a complete roll off the side of the couch in fright, having been too wrapped up to fly; he landed with a small thump and a angry chirp.

"I—Its nothing." My body tingled slightly as Walter tried to take a swing at me. There was no real harm in a ghost to human, but since I could feel his energy there I knew that he was touching me. It wasn't painful, just disorienting and surprising.

Falkner loped off to kitchen quickly to get paper towels.

I bared my teeth at the invisible apparition in the room. Walter chose not to show himself to me, and yet I could feel him nipping at the back of my neck so viciously.

"You're wrong to judge your own son." I hissed through gritted teeth.

iHe wouldn't be acting this way if you would leave him alone/i

I ignored the voice as Falkner came back, leaning down to wipe up the hot chocolate. Of course it would stain, since he was sophisticated enough to have leather, but he didn't seem concerned.

"Sorry." I muttered.

Falkner just shook his head with a snort, looking down at Zephyr who was losing a battle against his own blanket. The bird rolled around, screeching in horror at the fabric going over his head. He was the most temperamental little thing I had ever seen. I managed to stretch forward and grip the edge of the blanket swiftly, yanking it until the wrap came undone and Zephyr went tumbling out. He launched himself forward in the same movement and went hurdling into the wall.

Falkner could only shake his head in defeat, sinking back down to sit beside me, again this time he was closer. "Bird brain." He muttered, curling up and acting as if he really wanted me.

iDon't you-!/i

I slipped my arm around the precious bird trainer, pulling him forward until he was leaning halfway onto me. Had I the space to shift I would have pulled him down to lie on my chest, but it wasn't comfortable for my back to be against anything solid yet anyways. The arm of the couch wouldn't help my burns.

My hand found their way along Falkner's wrists until we were twisted together by our fingers, my chin resting atop his head while his cheek was placed against my chest, listening to my heartbeat carefully. It was a dramatic lulling pound, though growing fast as I thought about touching Falkner and other things.

iYou are a disgrace to the gym leaders!/i

"Kiss me…" I whispered to Falkner, tilting his chin up.

I didn't come here to make things that much worse between us, but the kiss was nothing of what it was in the hospital a few days ago. Falkner melted into me, lashing his tongue against mine while his father howled in disapproval.

iSTOP IT! SON! NO!/i

iYOU'RE MEANT TO RUN A GYM NOT LOVE A GYM LEADER/i

iMORTY! FUCK! STOP!/i

It went on like that for who knows how long. While our tongues wrestled and our pants got tighter and Falkner's father wailed to high heavens, damning me to hell and all that good stuff that made making out hotter. The spirits voice was actually hoarse by the time we broke away from each other, Falkner stretching to drink from his mug. He didn't hesitate to swallow this time, and I greedily took it after him. The drink was luke warm as it sunk past our swollen mouths.

Falkner licked his lips, eyes hazy and face flushed cherry red. He looked so cute… I wondered if now would be a good time to ask him to go all the way.

His head thumped against my chest in submission, groaning into me while the weight of his father rested on my shoulders. If Falkner knew what his father was saying right now… would he truly care? I knew the answer was yes… and that no kid could ever make out with someone—let alone another of the same sex—in front of their parents. I kept my eyes reverted around to Falkner in front of me so I wouldn't have to see such a man if he appeared now.

"Falkner…" I brushed his hair back, feeling the sudden stinging of my burns from here the friction had insulted them.

"Hmm?" He squeaked.

"Go out with me."

"What?"

"I want you to go out with me… lets… just go out." I suggested. "Tomorrow."

"B—but the gym…"

"No one comes to battle during the winter." My lips pecked along his cheeks softly. "Come on…"

He seemed to think for a minute, considering his options as I brushed over his eyelids and made him shiver. My hands had to stay safely inside his otherwise I would probably try and grope him again.

"I—I guess…. Sure." The bird trainer agreed after a moment. "Where are we going to go?"

I shrugged. "Somewhere… I don't know. Meet me at my house tomorrow morning ok?"

"Mmmn… alright."

I smiled gently, holding him close to my chest and wishing that his annoying asshole of a father would shut up.

ifuck/i


	24. Chapter 24

~Falkner~

What was I feeling?

Something so raw and fiery in my chest I couldn't seem to stand up without seeing unclearly. The world itself was fuzzy with emotions that didn't have names. I was guilt, I was hate, I was surprise, I was everything… even love. I was one rainbow of significance that didn't seem to belong in this world, or have a pot of gold at the end. I was every bit as lost as I was found, and this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach had me fighting off exhaustion.

I dreamed of Morty last night, whilst being so alone in my cold bed even with Zephyr and Jake beside me. Zephyr always slept curled up in the crook of my knee, for some odd reason he found comfort there where the skin was soft and hot. Jake on the other hand should have been outside with the others, but seemed restless so I allowed him to spend the night at my side with his talons digging into me when he fidgeted. It wasn't the most peaceful slumber I ever had, but it was better than other times I could remember.

The smell of Morty seemed to follow me into sleep as well, while I clung to his naked, scared body in my dreams, imagining sex and lust and warm body fluids. Morty didn't lie when he said he was a sexual person, since even in my dreams he seemed to want such actions. I woke up hard, breathless, littered with goosebumps and chills. I had kicked the blanket off of me in return for thinking that Morty was making me so hot while I slept. He had blown my mind.

The first thing I did this morning was try and relieve myself from the stress of the dreams that I had, only I had failed miserably, uncomfortable in my own home for some odd reason. I reverted to taking a terribly cold shower to get rid of the hard, but it was only temporary.

I worked the morning sluggishly, thinking about going to meet Morty today and wondering where exactly he wanted to take me. His words hadn't been "lets hang out" or "we should do something", but rather a very demanding "Go out with me." And I didn't know what to make of that. Was Morty suggesting that we were—Arceus forbid—dating? Had my moment of weakness lead him to believe that I agreed to be his boyfriend? His lover?

More importantly though, did I WANT to be? My mind kept circling the fact that I had been so overwhelmed and mentally sick while he was in the hospital. If I didn't feel something for Morty then I wouldn't have been so unstable. I felt as if my world had been crumbling out from under me. Was that love? Was the fear I had for his life…?

It was every bit as bad as when my father died… Maybe even worse because Morty had been hanging on for so long without any word of it getting better or worse. My father had gone so peacefully in comparison to the coma that Morty suffered. My father had been ill for ages, but it never seemed so bad until the night that he actually passed away, and though it scarred me deeply, I knew that he was at the very least not suffering. Unlike Morty, who had suffered for three days in blackness, listening to the sounds of people around him but unable to do anything about it. He didn't remember the pain or the fear, but the after affects proved just as much. Morty had nearly died.

To put that to simple terms… it would have destroyed me. I would have been shattered, just like when my father died. Losing Morty would be like starting life over again only without reason. Just before my father died he gave me a reason to move on. I held the great gym leader's hand as he rasped out his last words of wisdom. I could remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday.

i This is your gym now. You don't need me…/i

Those words had struck me so harshly, ringing in my ears for nights on end. It was a constant reminder that my father had given me the structure to live on my own. He left no room for error, and I remembered that while moving on to help the birds out of their own depression. Mama Bird had especially been upset after my father's passing, and if it wasn't for the fact that she was carrying the egg of her first bred child—Zephyr—she may not have had the strength to go on. I envied that bird for all she was worth, just like my father taught me to.

When I lost myself back then it seemed life flashed by in an instant, and while I found myself often by his grave talking to myself, I realized that he was never going to answer. Walter Hayato would never truly be with me again, and I came to ugly terms with it long before accepting gym leader status. Few months ago when I truly became the Violet city leader, I had forgotten all of who I lost, and rose to be something better.

With Morty I felt fragile again. I felt like he could make or break me because he wouldn't be the first but the second person I could lose. Surely if that happened I wouldn't be able to live with myself, and it was that fear that made me second guess love in the first place.

If I died would Morty feel sorrow? He must know of some emotion to those ghosts he talks to, but he never actually knew them when he was alive. Was that different? Did death spare us? Or did it contain us? I wasn't sure what I was asking myself, but the question in my head was obvious. Could Morty love me without the fear of losing me? Is that what made love love in the first place? The fragility of losing? It was like some sick twisted game that Morty lucked out on playing.

And if death didn't couldn't change love for Morty, then did it change lust? Was that the reason Morty was so eager? Obviously a ghost couldn't prove physical relationships with him, so maybe that was why he turned to me? Morty might love a ghost though… or more than one…

Did he love me? Or did he lust for me?

It was hell trying to think of the answers to all these questions, especially while at the same time I was flying incoherently through the air. Pride new the way to Ecruteak by heart now, so I didn't have to steer him any which way as we traveled. I focused on cradling Zephyr in my arms, coddling the stubborn pidgey until he knew that I loved him and wouldn't be leaving him again. He often tried to peck at me, but truly I knew that was just his way of showing affection.

We landed with pristine accuracy out in front of the gym that belonged to the ghost trainer. I rolled my eyes in the direction of his side entrance and kept them far from the burnt tower in the distance. I wasn't ready yet to face the destruction yet, but wondered if Morty had already been there or not. He didn't remember what happened to him in there, so did it make a difference to him how it looked now?

I really had to stop wondering. My mind was a dangerous path to nowhere.

I was about to reach out to knock on Morty's front door when it shot open itself, making me snort in panic, blinking rapidly. A lithe blackberry shadow slithered before me, flashing a pair of orange eyes before gesturing in and disappearing. I shivered as an eerie toxic feeling came over me. Gengars… not the most pleasant of pokemon. At least Morty's was humble though. It grinned to me a mouth of sharp inky teeth as I shed my boots and stepped into the modern house.

Strange how all of Ecruteak was so hold fashioned, and yet Morty seemed to enjoy the sleek look of leather and cherry wood flooring. His accents to the house were all black and organic in shape, reflecting the low lit candles and smelling of incents. Everything about this place was ghostly.

"Morty!?" I called, seeing as though this place was silent. Aside from the ghosts I couldn't see, there was no one in sight. Zephyr chirped a warning to anyone who may jump out and surprise him. That bird hated being surprised or caught off guard.

"In the back!" A distant voice answered me. I noticed how the polite Gengar was beckoning me along, vanishing and appearing with fluid dance like steps until he lead me through the hall in which the spare room was on. I remembered staying there on the night before Halloween with a flinch. The first time Morty kissed me was on Halloween. I also passed the bathroom where I once walked in on him.

That was a memory I couldn't surpass no matter how much I tried. All I had seen was his backside, but it still haunted me.

Gengar wafted along at me feet until the immense pressure of his body was pushing forward. Excitement buzzed around the pokemon like a heavy cloud, ready to strike with lightening at any given moment. He blasted the furthest door in the hall open, revealing Morty's personal bedroom, which I had never seen before.

It was large, much larger than the spare that I stayed in, and reeking of candles. Morty must have lost his sense of smell at some point because the strength was overwhelming. Everything was sultry and—surprisingly sexy smelling. That's right… even though sex couldn't have a particular smell, the mix of heavy autumn leaves and strong cologne instantly made me think of intercourse. It was the kind of room you expected to hear saxophones playing in. Dank, hot, pure and utter sex.

I shivered, drinking in the powerful scent until it tucked its way into the pit of my stomach. Arousal set in with a lulling twinge, making my balls feel tightened between my legs. I chewed the bottom of my lip awkwardly.

"Morty?"

The preference of leather did not stop in the living room of his house, but continued all throughout his bedroom as well. The massive bed that was centered against a wall had a headboard made entirely of sleek oil colored leather. There were silver buttons centered here and there to tie it together, but the lack of color or lightness truly stunned me. It was a massive expanse of suggestive splendor and glory. Candles were lit around, flickering dully under the half light coming through the dark shades covering the huge windows.

"Gengar let you in?" The sluggish voice of the ghost gym leader interrupted my basking.

"Yeah…" I looked around. "Where are you?"

"In the master bath." He said calmly, the sound of wet feet on tile following. I stepped forward, realizing that I hadn't been able to see that there was a separate hall leading to his bathroom from here. There were no doors, but a long curtain of see through black lace separating the two rooms. "You can come in." He said, turning the corner as I did so.

We nearly collided into each other, and with the distance so short and quick he managed to snag me by the waist and curl me into his side.

"I should have specified when I said come by in the morning." The ghost gym leader croaked in my ear, making me blush furiously. Zephyr did a double take at the affection and forced his way out of my arm, chittering. He flapped his stubby wings, hauling up until he could grip locks of Morty's messy bed-head hair between his talons.

"Zephyr." I tried to shoo him away as he attacked Morty's head. "Stop!"

Morty pushed the unruly bird away with a slow swat, making him topple sideways. I narrowly caught him before he could straighten and fly. Zephyr often lacked the skill needed to catch himself while flying, and while birds were supposed to have more balance than even cat pokemon, Zephyr was more like a rollipolli ball of feathers. There was a reason he never liked to fly, and it was because he was so uncoordinated it physically hurt him (because he tended to crash). It was no wonder why he was always pissed at the world.

"Zephyr!" I tried to grab the bird and he centered himself in the nest of Morty's hair, lashing out at the large hands that tried to shove him down again. Morty grunted in annoyance before I had the chance to pull his Z engraved pokeball out.

Wailing to high heavens Zephyr was called back.

"Sorry." I—still pressed up against Morty's solid chest—mumbled. "Did he get you?"

Morty held his first finger up to reveal a tiny drop of blood. "Yep." Said the ghost trainer. "Guess me and you will have to play doctor now."

I flushed at the way he smirked at me, so confident, so… so much like the way his bedroom smelt. Dank, hot, sexual. His eyes were half lidded with sleepiness.

"I just woke up." He leaned against me slightly. "And I'm supposed to be going back to bed."

"You said to come over in the morning." I worked up the courage to push my hand up his back a little ways. Had he always been so strong? Had his shoulder blades always felt like pure muscle? "It's already eleven."

"Mnn." He leaned down to kiss the side of my neck, rocking slightly. "I'm a night noctowl, not an early bird like you…. Sleep with me."

"What?" I pulled back, appalled.

His hazy purple eyes blinked slowly, seeming to miss the point of his words until my reaction. His mouth fell open slightly. "Oh… well I meant actually sleeping. Not sex… unless you want to have sex instead."

I shook my head, hot and flustered, realizing that I was actually still on the verge of hard as he held me close. "No—No. That's ok… And you said we were going out… Not sleeping."

"It's only eleven." He nuzzled my hair. "We have plenty of time…"

I sighed slightly, making a move to attach Zephyrs pokeball back onto my wrist. Morty must have taken it as pulling away from him though, since he stooped low and knocked my knees out from under me. With a gasp I fell into the sturdy shape of his arms, being cradled up to his chest and then hauled to the magnificent bed. The comforter was already in a knot, tangled around showing signs of a restless sleeping. It was the kind of comforter that was heavy with feathers—dear wailord a feather blanket—and felt very cool when you're first got in. I wanted to dissect the puffy thing and look at all the white down from inside.

Morty threw me down in the center and curled his arms around me, tightly so that I didn't have any room to move. He sighed, kissing the back of my neck and stirring all those emotions in my heart like a bowl of soup. Questions floated through my mind while Morty subdued me into believing that this was a good idea. He wasn't even trying to be seductive—or maybe he was—and I was growing hard. I fidgeted slightly, moving a hand down to cup my crotch subliminally.

"You're so much warmer here." Morty lazily gnawed at my neck, sucking where it was most sensitive.

"You're so pushy." I squeezed my thighs together.

"I'll be damned if I ever let you go." He seemed to be having a conversation with someone other than me. "Mmmn… bring your birds here, don't ever go back."

"Don't be ridiculous." I said with a muffled grunt.

"Ah…" Morty breathed. "You're flustered… having problems?"

I shook my head. "I could never leave my gym."

"That's not what I was referring to." His strong arm twisted around me, reaching down as his chest rubbed against my back. I shrunk within myself, hiding my hard until it was just me with my face shoved into a astoundingly soft pillow with a silk pillowcase on it. Everything felt so damn good in this room.

"Don't hide yourself…Let me see."

"No. Stop it." I elbowed him gently. "You said you wanted to sleep, so sleep."

"I can't sleep knowing you are uncomfortable… Sweetheart—

"Don't you dare call me that." I hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm not a girl."

"Would you rather I said lover?" His hand kneaded my ass with long luxurious strokes. "Honestly… what does it matter what I call you? Or what gender you are?"

So confident! Why was he always so confident? I felt like this was the only side of Morty I ever got the chance to see, while everyone else lucked out in knowing the jerk he could be. He must be a lot easier to hate than like…

"Honey?"

"Shaddap!"

"Baby? Babe?"

"Morty, seriously I'm going to punch you." I pushed up on my elbows and smacked his hand away from my backside. "I never said this was ok."

"I never asked if it was." He countered, trying to slide his hand between the sheets and my body. It was as if he was an unruly child that needed to be scolded for playing with someone else's toys.

"Stop."

"Why won't you let me love you?"

His face softened like the silky pillowcases as he spoke, words I couldn't grasp completely. They seemed to go in one ear and out the other, leaving me hallow and steaming. Did he mean that? Did Morty really love me? Or was that just the smooth talking that wanted sex? I must have turned cherry ass red at his remark, since his face reflected approval. He liked it when I got flustered, to my annoyance.

"Do you?" I hissed.

"I do." His lips scored the length of my cheek. "Do you?"

Did I love Morty? It felt like I had been wondering if he loved me for so long that my feelings weren't even part of this. As if his decision to love me would affect my feelings towards him. Was that wrong? Shouldn't I make judgment on my own? Or more importantly, was I even… gay? Bi? Something other than straight? Morty was barely human so I couldn't base it off of him… and yet…

He was handsome… with his windblown hair and narrow features. His eyes were sharp but the most passionate shade of violate. They never changed either; always solid under a rim of dark lashes. That was attractive right? Anyone would agree on that. Dark eyelashes were attractive, male or female or whatever. And how about neat lips? Neat and powerful. That was eye catching… I think?

Turns out I suck balls at emotions. "I—I don't know."

"Oh thank Arceus, I expected rejection." Morty teased halfheartedly. The sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife. "You know you shouldn't feel obligated to love me…"

"Why would you say that?" I murmured, taking his hand in mine so that it was safe away from my privates. He squeezed me tighter.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to love anyone just because they love you." He explained. "Mutual feelings for people are ok, though they may hurt at times."

"Since when did you get so good at this?"

He chuckled in my ear. "It's not hard to figure out."

"You're hard to figure out." I whispered.

Morty was soft as he hugged the length of me, precise and delicate as his pelvis pushed up against my backside. It wasn't long before he had me on my side again, facing away from him with my hand still keeping his away from my lower regions. He had me snuggled up so tightly I couldn't move even if I wanted to, which was not the position I wanted to be in while trying to sort things through my head.

Ever since I met Morty it seemed I had been defending or sticking up for him. I had given him forgiveness where forgiveness was not needed, I had cried and stayed up at night wondering, I had pictured his face numerous times, but never once did any of this lead to me thinking that I was in love with him. At the very least he irritated me.

And then there were the facts beyond Morty. What about Jasmine? What about the way she felt about me? Was it wrong to just toss her aside when she had been nothing but good to me? Despite having told her to fuck off in the hospital, I knew she would come to my forgiveness eventually. She always did. Because she was just that kind of good person.

Why was it that Jasmine was perfect in every way, sweet, kind… loving, and yet I felt nothing but mild friendship for her? I found it strange but fitting to say that love and hate go hand in hand, and that Morty driving me crazy was partially the reason I was feeling… something towards him.

The other thing Jasmine had—apparently—was impeccable timing, because as I was caught up in thinking about her my phone started off in my pocket, vibrating madly as if she had somehow heard my thoughts all the way from Olivine.

Morty took it upon himself to stick his hand down my pocket, but was slapped away instantly. "Who is it?" He asked with slight venom in his voice.

"Jasmine…" I huffed.

"Give me it."

"No!—I—Morty!" He snatched the thing from my hand easily, pinning me face down in his bed and centering himself on me. I groaned, realizing that he must work out because all I could feel was thick solid muscle. He put his elbows on my shoulder blades, making me hiss.

"Morty! Get off!"

"Sorry Jasmine, but Falkner's busy at the moment and can't talk."

"Morty!" I thrashed as he flicked his tongue at my ear. I could hear Jasmine howling on the other line, cursing her pretty little mouth off. Didn't she realize that only a few days ago Morty had almost died? Now was not the time to be fighting! Life was too short to hold grudges against one another. Of course Morty was to blame for antagonizing her as well, and doing so with a smile on his face. He was cruel in that way.

"Don't be like that, Jasmine. Just because you're jealous…"

Rage.

"Would you get OFF M—MMMnn! OW!" I flinched away from him as teeth scored the length of my neck. He lapped at me greedily, laughing! Of all things laughing evilly while Jasmine fretted over the phone.

"You're interrupting our sex Jasmine, I'm hanging up." Morty sniffed hotly.

"MORTY ILL—

He hung up, shifted his elbows off of me and moving them around. I was still in shock over his weight on me, unable to do anything but glance crossly back at him. He kissed my cheek, hand staggering inward, underneath me until my phone was squashed between my dick and the mattress.

"She's going to call back." Morty grinned, rocking his pelvis against my ass and kissing between my shoulders. I was wearing a thick jacket so it didn't feel like much, but the pecks of pressure sent zaps up my neck. Everything suddenly felt very hot.

"You're such an asshole." I hissed, eyes lolling.

He sure called it too. Jasmine called back not a moment later, and the harsh vibrations were directly under my crotch, pounding in rhythmic currents as his weight pushed down on me. His dry humping was enough as it was, let alone when he used my own phone— and poor Jasmine—against me. His hand hooked under my belt, shoving the phone in where I couldn't see it, all the way down until it was tucked under my balls.

Morty was one selfish bitch.

Jasmine would keep calling until she got the answer she deserved (which wouldn't be any time soon)

And me?

I was screwed.


	25. Chapter 25

~Falkner~

Well it took an hour and a half of mediocre shoving to get Morty off of me, and seventeen phone calls later, but I did it, and now I was even more exhausted than before. My dick was on the verge of explosion, which upset Morty to no end when I ran off into his bathroom and came on my own. He was so pushy I was surprised he didn't break down the door—or more likely use one of his ghosts to open it for him. Either way the guy was pouting at me for the next three hours, and despite it all, I had gotten the load off like I needed. I felt as if some part of my pelvis had turned to warm mush.

Morty also begged me to give him a blowjob, which I refused with a hard jab to the gut. He proclaimed love hurts and tried again, only this time more or less to make me crazy. I gave him a long hard silent treatment after that, relieved when he went off to take a shower—and surely jack off- on his own. Zephyr came out and sat with me on Morty's leather couch as we waited, followed shortly by a pokemon with a tiny flame on its head.

I recognized the thing but couldn't quite remember its name, and came to know that it had been disguising itself as one of the candles around here for who knows how long. It also gestured with its tiny squishy marshmellow-ey arms for me to watch as it lit a candle that had gone out. The baby pokemon was highly proud of itself, clapping its wax hands together and making a mess out of its face, which was too close to its arms to be avoided. I tried not to frown at the thing, seeing as though it was very friendly and maybe even a little lonely, but really… it was just weird. Unova had some pretty strange pokemon.

Four o'clock rolled around by the time we were all ready to go, complete with gym badges in case we met eager trainers along the way—Morty was all for different environment battles—and though I hadn't brought Jake with me, I figured if it had to be done then Pride could handle it. We hadn't battled in quite a long time actually, so it was refreshing to know sparing a little could happen.

We walked together across route forty-two, me suggesting flying across the water around Mt. Mortar, rather than walking through it like Morty was used to. It would have been a quicker trip to have Pride take us even one at a time across, but I knew well not to argue with Morty. He wanted to go through the mountain then so be it. We walked through the dark, chilly caves encountering several minors who Morty scared callously with his ghosts. Apparently digging here was useless and he was doing them a "favor"; I saw it as just being a jerk.

I asked him where we were going over and over again to no avail. Mahogany town was this way, which was nothing special other than the fact that Pryce was there, and after what Pryce did for me at the hospital I might see him. I hoped we would at least stop in the quaint old town, but rather Morty said he was taking me to the lake. The Lake of Rage to be in fact; an overgrown puddle full of rainwater and flopping magikarp. What… fun…

But Morty insisted we go hear because it was here that some kind of wild flower grew and apparently it was stunning. Now I had never seen flowers more beautiful than the ones that grew on the outskirts of Violet City, but because they hadn't bloomed since the summer my father died I figured I would give Morty a chance.

Sure enough the boggy climb to the lake was spoiled rotten with luscious greenery. Even in this shallow cold the plants were thriving. Morty told me the lake never froze over in the winter, and for whatever reason the plants here were unaffected by the weather. It may be because those plants were feeding off the lake water, but who really knew? I didn't question it as we walked through the frosty winter flowers, hand in hand as if we were some real couple out on their first awkward date.

I made Morty stop at one point, because I had found a feather that belonged to a Pidgeotto and wanted to analyze it. The colors were a little off compared to those of the Pidgeotto I raised, but it wasn't a rare "shiny" pokemon feather either. It was just a mild change in appearance because truly, ever bird was unique in its own way. I went on and on about how this feather had small black tips, rather than the thick chestnut blotches that Mama Bird had along the ends of her wings. I could judge the diet of this bird by the sleek oily feeling of the feather as well. Mostly small Magikarp; some berries too most likely. Morty said I was crazy for knowing so much, but approved none the less. My knowledge was impressive, I knew that.

Questions went on and on for a little while, eager and blatant as Morty seemed to want to know every little thing about me and my love for birds. He asked me what my favorite type was, and I replied with "I love all of them the same" just as my father would have said before he died. Only Morty found no joy in that answer, so he asked again, telling me that I absolutely had to pick one. Finally after a lot of coaxing I decided that Pidgeys and their evolutions were my favorites, because it had been what me and my father raised the most of. Plus Mama Bird was a Pidgeot, and Zephyr was a Pidgey, so I was like the Pidgeotto of that family (or flock).

I told him that Swellow were very intelligent birds though, with their sharp eyes and senses, known for being highly stubborn and sleek in their hunting abilities. I appreciated Jake for being the mild tempered bird he was, but knew for a fact that his offspring would grow to be more like their mother in personality. The only problem with Swellow was that they were more "flight" than "fight". Unlike the magnificent Staraptor, whose first reaction to danger would always be fight. They were the fastest of all the birds I knew of—aside from those of legends—and though I had only raised one—Pride—I found that its personality connected well with mine.

Morty asked me all about foreign birds that I had never actually experienced before, wondering if I would ever get the chance. I told him that more than anything I wanted to break that Bravairy—Renegade—but also had the desire to own a song bird. My father would have called them pets, rather than "warriors" the term he gave often, but I personally thought Chatots were the cutest things. Morty offered to find me one—someday—but I disagreed saying Zephyr would murder anything for daring to be cuter than him.

And then we got on the topic of how come Zephyr hadn't evolved yet, which resulted in the pidgey dive bombing Morty because it was a touchy subject. Bottom line, the fabulous bird preferred to sit on shoulders and sleep in burrito-wrapped blankets opposed to fight. There was mild suggestion about Zephyr needing healthy competition to make him stronger, and I had to admit it wasn't a bad idea. Birds naturally had the ability to fly away from their problems, however I knew it was important for them to be able to fight as well.

If there was anything I expected from Morty, it certainly wasn't sensibility like this. He had a very sharp mind, remembering all the little things I said and asking intelligent questions off of them. I was awed by him, really, and not once during our conversations did I feel like he was going to turn around and shove a phone down my pants. He was two sided like that, but not in a bad way. I held his hand feverishly the whole time, enjoying myself and wishing I had brought the rest of my flock here to enjoy the day.

"So… Do you think that if your father wasn't a bird trainer you still would be?"

I realized now that this was the question Morty had been leading up to all along, and I had to admit, it stung like a hot iron on my heart. To think that the gym leader before me had sculpted my path so precisely that I didn't have room for option. I almost went on to tell Morty just how tight a leash I had been on all my life, and how my father would have completely shot down my relationship with him, but decided otherwise when Morty released my hand and moved to wrap it around my waist. He pushed his right hand into my back left pocket.

"I get it if it's personal." He murmured. "I'm not good about talking family stuff either."

"No—no it's just… My father didn't really let me think for myself growing up. But don't get me wrong! I—I love birds more than anything else, I think it's in my blood to raise them… So no I guess I would have trained any other pokemon."

"Do you even like other pokemon?" Morty mused. "Because I personally don't. Especially not bugs… ugh." He shuddered. "Little vermin."

I half snorted at him, fighting a small smile on my lips. "Don't tell Bugsy."

Morty scrunched up his face as if he smelled something bad. "I just don't have the patience to love anything… that's why ghosts have always been my favorites. They don't need love."

I was taken aback by him, stopping suddenly with a deep set frown on my face. "Don't have the patience?" I huffed, surprised by the painful sinking in my chest. "Morty—you—  
"No! No I didn't mean—

"You just said you don't have the patience to love anything!" Had he just admitted that all of this was just for fun? Or worse, for sex? Morty was careful with the things he said, and I was positive for a moment that he had just given himself away. My stomach twisted back to the fear and uncertainty I felt this morning.

"You only want me for sex don't you?" I growled.

"Dammit! No! That's not what I meant!" He reached out to me, gripping my arm with his strong hand and yanking me forward.

I wasn't exactly sure what started off in me at that moment, since things had been going so well, but I was suddenly furious and spitting mad.

"What do you take me for!?" I snapped away from him, startling Zephyr into flying off my shoulder. He stumbled to the ground in his poufy girth, chirping angrily. I narrowly avoided stepping on him as I backed up from Morty. "You act like you care so much, but you don't! Yo—your selfish! You make me guilty about being friends with Jasmine, you don't put forth any effort to be friends with anyone but me, you—you try to rape me! How can I believe that you care about me when you go and say something like that? You don't have patience to love… what am I not dead enough for you?"

"Stop it. Don't say that." Morty hissed, trying to reach for me again. "I didn't mean what I said!"

"I know exactly what you mean." I slapped his hand away. The truth was that all this had been going so well and I had subliminally been thinking that this might actually work out. My heart had been pounding to the sound of Morty's drum, for once on beat, matching him easily. And just when I had begun to feel the rhythm we had together he goes and says something so irrational like that.

"Falkner."

"You're wasting your time!"

"Falkner! Dammit look at me!" he spun me around, fiercely so that I stumbled into his chest with a grunt. Zephyr was wailing like a siren, pecking at Morty's shoe wrathfully while the ghost trainer shook me. "Look!"

I grit my teeth together, hating how much faith I had accidentally put into him.

"Falkner…" He sighed. "Do you want to know something?"

"No."

"Falkner I was born an orphan, my parents left me for a drug position in Kanto. Ok I was literally left on a street corner out in front of a police station, barely alive when they finally took me in. My parents were gone, and as I got older I began to feel these strange things happening. People called them imaginary friends when I was four; they called me crazy at twelve. No one would adopt me because I was violent and hateful. I didn't love anyone because all I saw, all day long were these ghosts that no one else could see. I saw the faces of people murdered, innocent children left to die like ME! You may have had a stick-up-ass father all your life but you had someone that loved you. And don't you dare pity me, because I'm fucking fine. I'm not asking for your sympathy, I'm asking you to understand."

Silence… piercing, dead silence. Even Zephyr stopped as Morty's eyes drilled into me. I had never heard him say so much about who he was. But even more so than that, I couldn't even comprehend the loneliness that Morty had been feeling his whole life. I was raised on the wings of birds while he was lost… suffocated by ghosts. Morty was haunted.

"Do you understand?" He whispered to me, hands loosening on my shoulders where angry red finger marks were left. "Falkner, I won't let you put words in my mouth."

He brushed his nose along my jaw roughly, breathing shakily and making my heart swell. "I love you." His words shattered me like a piece of glass on concrete. He wanted me in pieces so that he could pick me up and put me back together again. With his arms around me now he kissed me, tediously, raw, passionate and lusty until it was my tongue lapping at his while he sucked hastily. "I love you." He insisted between breaths. "I fucking love you and I wish you could fucking see that."

I shivered into him, tugging on the fire scorched ends of his scarf and letting it all go. My mind was not on Morty's horrible childhood, or the disapproval I knew my father would have for this, or the way this was killing me mentally. I released all that tension, let it go. Fly away… like a bird…

Morty sucked my lip, my jaw, my neck, stitching marks of love into the soft skin while a strong hand grabbed and pulled a my crotch, working up a boner under the fabric of my jeans. He shaped it to the palm of his hand with harsh, jerky movements, insinuating that he would fuck me right here and right now if he got the chance. The scary part was I wouldn't have had the willpower to fight him off either.

"Hey!"

The both of us jolted back in fright, glancing furiously around as the blood rushed to my head too quickly. I had to clutch Morty for support, but he wobbled a little as well. We blinked, rolling eyes through the trees surrounding the lakeside that wasn't far off.

"Did you hear?" Morty breathed.

I nodded, tasting a very shallow cut on my lip from where Morty had been too rough. The blood was hot and salty.

"Silver!"

"Tha—over there!" Morty whirled around at the sound of some gruff young teens voice. I didn't quite put the pieces together into my head yet, and while I struggled to right myself and help Zephyr up, I realized that Morty had taken off on me. I cursed, pulling up my zipper now that I realized it was down, and followed.

"Come back!" There it was again, that familiar baritone of a voice.

"Morty?" I gasped, still having not caught my breath from our make out session. "Morty!"

Where the hell did he—

I barely managed a jog when suddenly I was struck with the force of something much, much stronger than the ghost trainer could be. Certainly a body though, I was thrown back onto the ground with a harsh thump. Twigs pierced my jacket and Zephyr squabbled and squealed as his tail had gotten caught under my head snapping against the ground. I didn't even have time to gasp before a much larger weight was crashing down on top of me.

"Sorry I—Falkner!?" A completely different voice came through the pounding of my head while the other baritone voice still called out for someone—Silver. I remembered now. Silver was one of the two top trainers in Johto at the moment. The foxy redhead that had beaten me in battle so easily.

"Hey! Hey!" The strong man over me patted at my face. "Get up bird brain!"

I shook my head to notice it as Lance.

What the hell? He offered me a hand up. Since when did Morty turn into Lance?

"Something's gone wrong at the lake!" Lance hauled me to my feet. "There are Gyarados everywhere! And they are not happy!"

"What?" I gripped his cape as he turned to go, running through the thick trees and frosty shrubs.

"Lance! Over here!" another voice. The voice of—I had to look—the redhead. It was Silver, only he looked much different than the last time I had seen him. He looked as though he has grown three inches in both height and hair length. His dark red locks were down to the center of his back, and his gloves looked a little small on his long hands. A once tiny Tododile stood as a massive Feraligatr at his side now.

In the distance I could see the furious lapping of lake water on the shore, threatening to uproot trees along the flooded banks, and weaving between them was the other top trainer. He was a raven of some sort, with piercing eyes like those of my Staraptor, zipping in with speed and skill despite his broadness.

"We have to get to higher ground!" Gold wailed. "The lakes starting to sink in!"

"WHAT?" Me and Lance in unison.

"Morty!" I yelled, plucking the ball of angry feathers from my shoulders and stuffing him in my jacket. I snapped Pride's ball off my belt and let it fly quickly. I had to find Morty.

"Honkrow!" Silver called out not a moment later—and had I not been freaking out over Morty I would have liked to bask in its glory.

"Dragonite!" Lance answered the battle call.

"Togekiss!" Gold howled. Dammit! Birds and I couldn't even focus on them!

"Let's go Pride." I coughed roughly, clambering onto the back of the soot colored bird. I had to find Morty. I didn't even have time to think about all he said to me just a moment ago. This was all happening so fast.

Urgh… Morty loved me.

I wasn't going to lose him now that I knew he was mine.


	26. Chapter 26

~Morty~

Shit.

Why did stupid shit always have to happen when I wanted to have sex?! First Jasmine! Now impending doom upon Mahogany Town? Could I ever catch a break?

Fuck my life. I just wanted to get laid!

Scrambling up the ravine of soggy land with my gluttonous shadows spiraling ahead, I realized just what was happening. The lake was spiraling out of control from some strange signal coming from the center of town. There was no obvious reason as to why there would be an odd signal ruining my date, but I'll be damned if I didn't figure it out soon. The only reason I knew there was a signal anyways was because my highly sensitive ghost pokemon could hear and feel the waves coming from a tower. They sprang to action, yipping and howling mercifully with excitement while dozens of innocent magikarp were turned to Gyrados unwillingly.

The stupid fish should realize that the signal waves were helping them, but no. Instead they had to freak out and cause me young hair loss. Or maybe that was me ripping my hair out because my penis was deflated once again—for the third time today. Seriously…. Seriously?

"Morty!" A low rasp of a voice, thick with age called to me as I pushed the boundaries of town. "Morty, what has happened?"

My ghosts slipped forward on the ground, whistling like firecrackers at Pryce like a pack of wild Houndoom would over a piece of meat.

"Stand down!" I snarled at the unruly ghosts. "My apologies leader Pryce… The lake is inflamed by Gyrados. But—but no!" I blocked the caned man from moving forward. "Lance is there, I saw him. And the two other trainers everyone has been talking about. They've got it handled!"

"I'm no coward and this is my town to protect. Step aside." The elderly gym leader wacked my shin with his cane making me flinch.

"Please, Pryce don't do this." I begged. All be damned if I ever had to live with his eternal ghost. Crotchety old man. I grumbled to myself.

"No son." His voice was as wintry as his appearance.

"No!" A loud bellow from somewhere above sounded. "Pryce as champion I'm ordering you not to fight this battle."

Well if it wasn't Mr. Kiss my ass or feel my wrath. Dressed in drag with that long flowing cape and muted ruby hair. What a catch… I rolled my eyes.

"Lance…" Pryce's powdery eyes narrowed, nearly lost in the expanse of wrinkles around his brow. "Are you telling me you have my town in good hands?"

The dragon master swooped in on his dopey golden dinosaur thing, making me truly hate myself for ever associating with these people. Even Falkner's pudge ball, Zephyr had more intelligence—or at least more cockiness—than that humble ass thing did. I quite disliked the hero role, especially when it was out of arrogance.

"Yes sir, we have some top trainers at the lake as well. Falkner is there too."

"He's fine right?" I snorted. That kid had as much pride and honor as any of these other dingbats, the only difference was that he wouldn't go headfirst into a battle he knew he couldn't win. Falkner wasn't stupid like that. He was sensible, even a little selfish that way. I loved it.

Lance cast me a strange look, but nodded once harshly before continuing. "Clair is on her way, she will be here any second. I sent out a mass call to all the leaders. Though I doubt Jasmine or Chuck could travel so fa—

"Would you shut up!" I snapped. "I know where the signal is coming from already so quite talking like you're the greatest man alive!"

Lance clamped his jaw tight and lowered his heavy brow at me. "Dragonite." His voice was a low rusty purr, followed instantly by a reply of the same tone. The pale Sunkist dragon made a low moan that sounded like constipation. If that was its sound of obedience I didn't want to know what its rebellion sounded like.

"Gengar!" I hissed, snapping my fingers. Not a second later my shadow was before me, with glowing amber eyes and a ruthless toothy grin across its foggy face. My two Gastly—my apprentices—and my Haunter—the deputy—were close behind. "Lead the way." I ordered.

Pryce coughed as the toxic air that came with ghost pokemon, but said nothing of disapproval as Lance strode beside me, a whole two inches taller with his shoulders back. He didn't know where he was going and yet he seemed to be inching forward for the lead. I glared at him the whole time.

"Wait! Wait!"

Oh great.

Another one? I narrowly avoided being pummeled into the ground by an awkward dirty streaked white… thing with thick overstuffed wings. It had a very stubby—maybe not even a beak—mouth and large black eyes that shone with worry. The ground coughed out a massive wave of dust as a thick teen tumbled over and rolled once, knocking my leg and receiving a sharp spit from Haunter. Purple sludge made his sleeve sizzle as he floundered up to dust himself off.

"I'm Gold, here to defeat team rocket!" He adjusted his yellow and black cap over his head. His face was muddied and slightly bloody, making his white teeth and bright honey eyes shine. He had a very dark rim of lashes around those eyes as well—and had this all happened a few months ago I would have said he was one sexy kid.

However now that title belonged to Falkner and all I saw of Gold was a cocky brat that didn't know how to land a flying pokemon.

"Team Rocket?" Lance whirled on him. "What do you know about them!?"

A distant rumble stretched far across the ravine leading to the lake, making my knees weak and my feet numb.

"Just come on!" I insisted. If anyone else showed up to "save the day" I might as well take Falkner home and call it a day! "Team Rocket is no challenge to us."

"Quite the confidence for a gym leader that shows no sign of training." Lance sniffed curtly. "If you're so tough then lead the way."

"That's what I'm doing." I grumbled under my breath. Of course I showed no signs of training! Because I trained at night when no one was around but ghosts.

In a narrow line we weaved our way through the small town street, beckoning to each other as Gengar swallowed up the signal being released. Toxic fumes wafted from his distress, nearly paralyzing Lance's dopey dragonite. I was trying not to smirk at that, however the fact that I was heading into territory I didn't know of kept me sane. Plus Falkner was still out there at the lake…

When I had run off to find the sound of the two voices we heard I thought Falkner had been right behind me, but then after a moment when I turned and looked back he was nowhere to be seen. Assuming that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, I had kept going until the lake front was lapping at my feet. For a heartbeat I stood, shocked at the violent algae green water that sloshed in the sunlight, and then Gengar had convulsed and wretched as if something had struck him. We took off in search of the cause, reacting on instinct alone until it brought us here.

A souvenir shop?

"Morty you're out of your mind." Lance bared his teeth at me as we all stopped in front of the door in confusion. From inside we could see very concerned man with his hands up in defense as if we were police officers. Hell, we might as well be.

"Guilty face." Gold grinned a wicked smile that could have sent the high heavens aflame. "Morty you're a genius!"

Well I guess the kid wasn't all bad was he? I nodded in response as Lance pushed past and blasted the doors open with his large hands. His face held no pity, no sign of weakness, yet it was all a façade.

Gengar leapt at the intensity of such a signal coming off of this place, spewing a puddle of toxic, purple goo from his mouth and eyes. It wasn't often that he reminded me that he was also a poison type pokemon—but now was one of those times. He looked to be dripping, melting in disgust and trembling with bared teeth. His eyes pierced a nearby pine tree.

The tall dark tree looked innocent at first, with its strong needles and timid pinecones. I almost took Gengar for going crazy while he snarled at it, waiting for my order to attack—as if it would attack back. My eyes narrowed suspiciously, peering through the limbs while Lance's demand for an answer and Gold's shrill laugh cut through the gift shop doors. I rolled my eyes at them, seeing as though they had the wrong idea. Nothing was IN the shop, it was all in this tree outside of the shop.

iThese damn gym leaders better praise me for the rest of my life/i I thought bitterly, snapping my fingers at Gengar. He lunged in an instant, leaving small toxic grass-killing goo behind and then finally flitting away into the ghost he was. I could just make out his shape and shadow as he ascended up the tree to where a well camouflaged antennae was sticking out. He trembled the whole time, but managed to snake a sly finger through the keyhole on a tiny electrical box nailed to the trunk.

"Come on Gengar." I perched my lips as he screeched, flinching away from the electricity. Sparks flew as his shadowy claws pierced the wires inside, and I could only grind my teeth as smoke started to flit from his figure.

"Enough! Enough!" I shook my head when a harsh zap sent him a few branches down on the tree. "Retreat."

The ghost pokemon practically fell down from the smoking tree—an odd green gas that smelt like mildew and old gym socks. I plugged my nose, turning to look back inside the show where Lance and Gold had—disappeared?

I whirled, shouldering the door and making a bell rip from above me. It flew helplessly across the old pine flooring, across the small room until it stuttered to a stop in front of the clerk who was sweating bullets.

"Where did the—

"MORTY!"

A hand gripped me harshly while the voice flashed red. I turned to see the sweeping face of a very feminine and familiar face.

"Silver?" I remembered the name because he was a challenger at my gym. He had beaten me one night after giving me a tongue lashing about not opening my doors until late. At the time I had rolled my eyes and cursed back softly, only to be beaten then. My respect for the kid was higher now that I knew what he was capable of.

"The other gym leader— He—needs help." The foxy redhead panted, looking ragged and waterlogged. It was obvious by the mud plastered to his pants and feet that he had gone into the lake.

"Falkner?" My heart skipped a terrible beat. It was painful and mortifying, like a hiccup in the most dead center, fragile caverns of my heart. "What happened?!" My first instinct was to punch Silver in the face for not telling me before the question was even out of my mouth, but I held back.

"He's fighting the gyarados alone!" Silver wiped a hand across his face, leaving a trail of blood from a large gash in his wrist.

"Fucking—No!" I cursed, slamming the gift shop door closed again. The glass shook, threatening to shatter. I shoved Silver out of my way and took off towards the lake with a terrible sinking feeling.

Silver said Falkner was fighting the Gyrados alone, and the way he said it made it sound as if there were more than one Gyrados. But even worse than that he looked quite frightened and terrified while he said those words. A trainer like Silver shouldn't be afraid unless it was an emergency… so was it?

Dammit.

Why had I assumed Falkner would be smart enough NOT to go head first into danger? Stupid boy, who did he think he was?

I was no stranger to feelings like pain, regret, guilt, but certainly this was a new one for me. Like lust, it was powerful, but not so violent. This gave me horrible images in my head. Falkner, bloody and unmoving in the jaws of a Gyrados. His stupid pride getting him killed while I tore through the trees because I hadn't been there. I imagined myself too late to feel his warm body one more time. This emotion was so strong in me that it actually twisted my stomach in a horrible way. I had never felt this before.

People came and went in others lives, but never mine. I had the ability to see ghosts, and so I never truly lost anyone when they died. However I had never been so absolutely whipped on someone before either. Falkner was my reason now, and the thought of losing him to the afterlife truly disabled me. The blood roared in my ears while I ran, panting, searching the skies for any sign of him flying.

I had never felt this way before…

But my Arceus was it frightening. The thoughts subsided as I drew closer to the lake, and my head filled with one breathy sentence over and over again. I can't lose him… I can't lose Falkner.

I can't lose Falkner…

I love him.


	27. Chapter 27

~Falkner~

"PRIDE! Watch out!" I howled, heart thumping as the horrifying waves from below a suddenly dark grey sky lapped viciously. My black-as-night bird narrowly avoided not one, not two, but three hyper beams directed at us. The wind gushed with the pulsing beam, tossing us aside and knocking me halfway off of the skilled Staraptor. I was forced to scramble at his talons, unbalancing his flight until we did a corkscrew towards the lake below.

"PRIDE!" I wailed as my lower half sunk into the freezing water. I couldn't swim! Dammit I was so scared of water!

Fear gave me strength though, and I put my priorities into hauling myself back up onto the bird's shoulders. He was flapping long, hard strokes with his powerful wings, making my ears vibrate with the air tunnel that lifted us upwards. Just when I thought I was going to surely fall to my doom, Pride tilted the opposite way and gave me the extra help I needed to center again.

"Shit…" I cursed breathlessly as a dozen or so massive water pokemon chased us through the water. They could swim like we could fly—and that was a horrible thought considering that their attack range was a lot longer. We could only run from them and hope they didn't hit us in the meantime. Not to mention keep their attention long enough until Silver came with backup. Our aerial ace attacks wouldn't do anything. What we needed was an electric type, and the only trainer I knew that had a few of those was Jasmine.

Jasmine was all the way in Olivine, and for once I wish she was an annoying clingy girl that knew where I was at all times. I could really use some help right about now.

"LEFT!" I pushed on Pride's left shoulder as I yelled the order.

A single, distressing chunk of ice clipped me in the cheek, tearing the skin away and making blood spatter from our height all the way down to the water below. I gasped as a second piece froze to the tip of my ear and chipped the ends of my hair off. In combination of the ice attack and the sopping wet of my jeans I shook horribly.

We couldn't keep this us much longer, and yet as I we flew more and more of the flopping magikarp grew angry and coldhearted. They were evolving before my eyes, emerging from the shell of stupidity that they inhabited before, and turning into something of pure rage. Each one seemed bigger than the last, but not as mighty as the overall leader of the group.

Did Gyrados flock like birds? I wasn't knowledgeable with any other type of pokemon but birds, so I didn't know, but the way they formed a cluster and moved within each other's wakes looked orderly. The wild pokemon obviously knew what they were doing.

"Dammit…. Dammit... dammit!" I shook my head as the ice began to sting, showing no signs of melting or getting less painful. It was so cold it burned, like having suspicious freckle removed in case it was cancer or something—I had that done to me after my father suffered from it. The ice burned me, made me dizzy and unable to move my jaw completely. The air turned lighter in my lungs with the pain, and all nerves started to slip away in replacement of a sharp stabbing. My head throbbed.

Where had Morty gone? Was Silver almost back with help? Would our luck run out soon?

We dove in and out of the launching attacks, missing each blast by mere seconds. Pride and I hadn't flown this fast together since the time I was breaking him. His natural instinct had made him sharp tehn and I prayed to Arceus that it would work out now as well. This would have been a great time to have Renegade—my untrained Bravairy—on my team, but the bird still showed no sign of progress. It made me wonder if some birds just could be broken, which brought on thoughts about these Gyrados ever being stopped.

"Towards shore! Pride!" I encouraged with a grunt. Maybe if we flew around the trees on the shore the Gyarados would have less chance of hitting us and we could go a little slower. Maybe then my fingers wouldn't feel like they were going to snap off if they got any tighter on Pride's wings.

Skyrocketing forward Pride barrel-rolled out of another attack. He would tuck his wings in and send us hurdling down at the lake water. The gyarados then would see their chance to get closer and launch another three or four attacks at us. Pride would slip his wings back out and the wind would catch and launch us back up, as if I pulled a parachute going a hundred miles an hour. My breath was gone, far beyond gasping or panting. I was literally choking on too much air one moment, and then not enough the next.

The enormous pines along the shore grew s we approached them, weaving along in one large arch while hyperbeams blew branches longer than me out from behind us. Pride was not the most agile bird though, and with me on his back it proved too dangerous to continue this way. He tucked it in deep and came around a wide arch, so low to the water that it flicked up and hit me in the face, instantly freezing to the already frozen ice at my jaw and ear.

"PULL UP!" I screamed in agony, as water seemed to fuel the intensity of such blistering, sheer cold. Pride however stayed low, having no option but to avoid the attacks centered above us.

"UP! PRIDE PULL U—

We were struck then.

Only about twenty feet off the shore of a violent lake that was a lapping at the shore hungrily. I was so unbelievably damaged by the water however, drowning wasn't even my first thought. The fear was replaced with an outstanding pain, cutting me deep as the water grabbed me and my bird and pulled us down under.

Water and feathers were never a good combination. Unless the birds had the sleek oily feathers and webbed feet that went along with being a water bird like Peliper or Golduck. But either way that didn't change anything for us. Pride could maybe get himself out quick enough not to be weighed down, but I couldn't swim at all…

And even if I could swim I wouldn't have been able to at the moment.

As soon as I hit the water, skipping like a rock and then plummeting down into the green murk, my face exploded in a heat of merciless throbbing. Bubbles flew as my last breath was given to the water, and before I knew it ice was clogging my nose and mouth. The small chip that had latched onto my ear grew at an immense pace, covering my face and throat and squeezing my head so tightly I thought it was going to pop. Everything went black, and then white, and then black, and then nothing.

I lost consciousness for what felt to be about a million years. The blackness that engulfed me mentally, the ice that swallowed me physically, it all clogged my brain into believing that I was home again. A sudden flashback took me by surprise.

i Dad!/i

iDAD!

A young four year old me shrieked in panic as I was strapped onto the back of a gentle Noctowl by my thighs. It was the first time I would ever fly alone, and my father did not pity me in the slightest. I wasn't truly afraid, but more or less wanted to act like it was going to scare me, because any normal four year old would have been terrified.

The noctowl under me rumbled a type of purring sound as comfort, making me sniff intently. Mama Bird was also there, picking dirt out of my messy hair and fussing over me as if I were really her baby and was leaving the nest for the first time. It was the biggest occasion we had around here in a long time.

Vividly my father's beloved, golden winged Noctowl spread itself to the air, taking off as my little stubby hands gripped its soft feathers tightly. I gasped in panic, not used to the empty space behind me, since that was normally where my father sat. It was a mild ascending process that had me frightful and squeezing my eyes shut at first, but soon became a learning experience.

"Faster Noctowl!" My father ordered from below, his voice rough but loving.

I nearly chomped my own lip off in fear as Noctowl dipped and soared with me. I was scared but I also felt so high. I felt like for the first time I was the winner of some nonchalant race. I felt empowered with the wind in my hair and the sun on my back. The strokes of the birds wings made a sort of rocking motion that curled with my small body as we flew. I felt like me and Noctowl were one being.

Flying was the single most beautiful thing in the world.

Falling however was not.

And so when Noctowl took a turn too fast through the trees around our sanctuary and the straps holding my thighs down came undone, I slipped off like a magikarp would out of your hands. Wailing in despair at the sudden tragedy I was met with the sensation of water slapping me in the back./i

One small, muddy pond where the birds drank from became my number one nightmare that day. I was only four years old… and I almost drowned. Had my father not been there to pull me out I would have left this earth long before he did.

I was faced with the dilemma of death and drowning now, as ice flooded over with lake water, burning my throat and snapping me in and out of consciousness like knife would cut in and out of something. Everything hurt, everything spun, everything was fading and I hadnt the slightest clue how to help myself.

My WHOLE body was freezing over, just because of one small chip of ice from an enraged gyrados. I could feel the lack of blood to my brain and hands as everything went numb. My heart spluttered in my chest while I didn't even have the ability to flail.

Few thoughts crossed my mind as I embraced this sort of death before me. The first was that I was utterly relieved I had put Zephyr in a pokeball before taking flight with Pride. The second was guilt for making Pride take on such a challenge. I prayed the mighty bird was drowning himself right now. And the last thing, the hardest thing to grasp actually, was the thought of Morty.

Before I lost everything, I thought about those sharp lilac eyes and his rough kneading hands on my skin. I thought about the things he had done to me, and how much I wished I could say goodbye. I thought about the way he said he loved me, and how I was stupid not to believe him or think that even for a second I couldn't return the favor. That was it though. The last thought to cross my mind.

I loved Morty.

…

~Morty~

"FALKNER!" I dragged the frozen body from the water before me, lurching against the lapping waves until we fell into the shallows. I was shaking, eyes tearing as I realized this was my fault. My fault. My fucking fault.

I snarled at the ice encrusted, pale person before me. His lips were completely frozen over, along with the rest of his head. His whole body had a dusting of frost around it, but looked spared due to the clothes that took most of it. His lips were a zombie looking blue in color, and the only thing I could think of to do was break away the ice. My mind was gone at the moment.

I punched Falkner in the face as hard as I possibly could, cracking the ice around his jaw and letting the water that was trapped inside trickle out. And then I started breathing on his lips while peeling back the ice chips I could. Ever take a bite of a cold spoon and have it get stuck to your tongue and lips? That's how Falkner's whole face and neck was. I spit, hot and dramatically on his mouth, and then started fogging up the ice until it began to loosen up.

I didn't know if I was too late or not… but he had only been in the water for about thirty seconds…

"Falkner…" I pried his lips open and breathed into his mouth. I didn't know how CPR worked or anything, but of course I had to try.

And let me tell you, did I try… for what felt like an eternity.

But Falkner didn't budge.

"GENGAR!" I finally pulled back and gasped. The shadow was at my side in an instant, still weak from his encounter with the electrocution.

"Sa—save him…" I begged. "SAVE HIM!"

I never checked to see his Falkner had a heartbeat or not… I didn't want to know the answer. But as I watched my own pokemon—a ghost—head into the body of a human being, I couldn't help but wonder if I should have checked.

Was this a lost cause?

Had I lost the one person I actually loved?


	28. Chapter 28

~Falkner~

Blackness…

Nothing but pure, intense, violent, blackness.

There was nothing really, since blackness held no objects or time. It was just space without stars, ongoing, forever, thinning my losses into nothing as I felt weightless, coherent, but weightless and unwilling. I couldn't truly pull together any real thoughts in my head, but that truly frightened me. I was lost.

Were my eyes opened or closed? I couldn't tell any longer.

For a long moment there was nothing but harsh, painful, blackness. Growing more agonizing by the second, each of which felt like a lifetime. I was losing a battle with myself, unsure of how to win or even attempt to fight back. There was nothing. Nothing… nothing… a whole lot of fucking nothing.

I couldn't tell if I was scared, angry, or just plain remorseful. My emotions had all turned to senses in which only pain strummed on. My whole body seemed to radiate an aura of agony, one in which I couldn't even escape with unconsciousness. Or maybe I was already unconscious? Either way I couldn't escape this. Not even death would take away the pain.

Not that I wanted to die…. No, I fought with everything I had so that wouldn't happen.

In the end though I had to assume.

That's what happened.

…..

~Morty~

In the end…

I—I won't even… there's no words.

But Gengar did it.

For me, for himself, for Falkner, I wasn't sure… but he did it.

I lay on the muddy banks of the Lake of Rage holding Falkner to my chest while his heart thudded for the first time in several long moments. I wasn't sure how long it took exactly for a heart to sleep and never wake up, but Gengar had to have been in Falkner's precious body long after a half hour. While all I could do was stroke the bird trainer's hair back, carefully, feeling the icy chill of his skin when I touched his face. His lips were still blue, lacking blood and movement.

I wasn't sure how long I would have sat there with Falkner, fearing for my own health. There was no sign of life in him at all, not one heartbeat, not one breath of air, nothing to show me he was ever going to wake up.

And yet I never once saw his spirit leave his body. It was as if Falkner was completely gone. Dropped off the face of the earth just like that.

I would have stayed by his side forever if I had to.

But thank Arceus…

Thank the faithful corruption of a ghost pokemon.

Thank my lucky stars and everything else that could have had anything to do with Falkner.

I sobbed over the body before me, thanking the world for not taking my love away from me. Falkner's eyes twitched at last, and the blood started to flow to his lips again, and a ragged pulse connected us together as Gengar slipped out from the once-uninhabited shell that was Falkner.

I didn't know how he did it, but somehow my pokemon had dragged the life back into Falkner and saved him. He had possessed him long enough to convince the body that it was alive. And now, by mere foolery, Falkner lay before me with half lidded eyes. I knew he couldn't see me, and wasn't sure if he could hear me or not, he may have been paralyzed too. There was no sign of him reacting to me, but he was still there.

He was alive.

….

"Should I call an ambulance?" Silver—obviously no believer in miracles or ghosts—asked in a soft spoken voice. Hi narrow steely eyes were now wide and confused as blood trickled down between them from a gash in his head. I had to hand it to the kid, he knew what he was doing, but while I lay in the mud, too exhausted to do anything but, I imagined yet again another trip to the hospital. Falkner had been in the hospital two times because of me already, and I didn't want to make it a third if I didn't have to.

Besides… what doctor could prove what happened to Falkner? They wouldn't believe the intensity of ghost pokemon, they wouldn't understand if I told them I saw the whole thing either. And Falkner was breathing now, actually filling his air with lungs and breathing. His lips had parted moments after his eyes dilated eyes opened, relieving me of more worry. I set myself up next to him in the mucky ground, enduring the chill of his body and holding him closely while lake water lapped at our feet.

"For yourself maybe…" I whispered back to Silver, the young trainer who had single-handedly stopped the gyrados by catching their blood red leader. I was thoroughly impressed with the young trainer, wishing I had the words to thank him for stopping the destruction around us. Falkner could have been even more hurt, being that we were just out of the shallow water, obvious and in reach.

"No… No I have to find Gold…" The redhead bit his lip, looking as if he might start to cry at any given moment. "But—are you going to be ok?"

There was no telling what happened to Lance and Gold in that odd gift shop in town, or if Clair had ever shown up to help. All the gym leaders had been called in, so I hoped that someone would have shown already, but there was no sign of anyone else around so I couldn't be sure. Quite frankly though I didn't care about them. All I cared about was Falkner.

However I had respect for this kid Silver, and seeing as though he was facing a confliction within himself so terrible he had to leave me and Falkner defenseless and alone, I understood. I nodded to him in understanding, preparing my worry-weak body for the trekking back up the ravine to the town where I could get a hotel room for the night. There was no way I would make it home to Ecruteak tonight.

"I'll be fine… but if you can send someone—a gym leader—for help then I would appreciate it." I told him.

He seemed to have been holding his breath for the ok for a long time now, and nearly turned to sprint through the trees as I gave him "permission".

"Hey!" I raised my voice. "Silver!"

He turned and looked impatiently at me.

"Do you love Gold?" I asked critically.

He flushed, blinking in embarrassment and swallowing hard. "I—I… Do…" he bit his lip.

"Make sure he knows that." I advised. "Don't let anything ever happen to him."

Silver looked back at me with his name-sake eyes piercing and outlined in blood from a shallow head wound. I watched the emotions I didn't understand roll down his cheeks in the form of hot tears, but did not say anything more. I barely knew this top trainer and yet I could tell that he had a story to tell. He had a voice that was trapped in his heart like a bird in a cage. I could see all the pain and grief lining his face as he wiped away his tears and nodded to me, curtly, trying to be brave.

"Right…" He agreed, turning and fleeing into the trees.


	29. Chapter 29

~Morty~

"Falkner…" I crooned. "Sweetheart… anything I can do for you?"

"I'm ju-just so cold…" he responded with a harsh shiver. He couldn't stop shaking, no matter how many blankets I piled up on him. No matter how tight I held him beneath those blankets, my body heat was not enough either. He was completely frozen still, his ear raw from where the initial attack had hit him.

"Are you strong enough to stand?" I asked, ignoring the sharp chilly nose that pressed into my collar bone. Falkner didn't have a fever; I already checked that for him, so there shouldn't be any harm in heating his body up with a shower or bath. He could use it as well, considering we both still had mud plastered to our ankles and leg hair.

About an hour ago I had abandoned the raid on team Rockets contemporary hideout in a giftshop down the street in order to get Falkner to a hotel room where the lady at the front desk nearly threw the keys at me. She recognized we were gym leaders at once, and wouldn't dare argue with the state I had been in. Carrying Falkner all that way had made him woozy, and he ended up vomiting dark purple and red all down the front of me, not that I truly cared—I was actually happy he showed more sign of life, but the color truly worried me. It was such an unnatural, toxic color…

We found our room quickly on the bottom floor of this tiny hotel, where I had then nestled Falkner into one of the full size beds. There were two in this room, but I had to strip the other one of its bedding to try and warm up Falkner.

I had taken mine and Falkner's clothes off until we were stark naked together, uncaring for once, but neither of us daring to harden. After today's events I didn't think I would be physically capable of getting turned on, let alone wanting Falkner to either. Though I had to admit, it would be a good way to warm him up…

No, I wouldn't suggest it.

"Sweetheart." I brushed his hair back carefully. "Come on, I'll carry you to the bathroom. You can take a hot shower."

He clung to me tighter, trembling, vibrating horribly as some strange aftershock of having Gengar inside of him. I hadn't yet told him just how close he had come to dying—or that he probably had been dead, simply because I figured he must know already. He was quite traumatized after all… but my biggest concern was how he would react to me telling him that it was Gengar who saved his life—at least for now.

I never had one of my ghost pokemon enter another man's body before, let alone bring them to life by force. Were there more side affects to having a ghost enter you? I wished I knew what to expect, but after Falkner vomiting I wasn't sure.

Gengar was not just a ghost type—though I tended to forget—he was also a poison pokemon, and the toxins he may have released in Falkner could be fatal. Not only was he possessed, but he was very weak and sick now too. I cradled him softly.

"Answer me."

"I—I can't move." He spluttered. "S—s-so cold."

"Alright…" I kissed his blood-dried cheek gently, moving away from him with a pang of guilt. "I'm going to go start a bath then… and ill carry you there."

I didn't want to leave Falkner alone for even a moment, so simple tasks like starting a bath felt long and tedious. Not to mention I was mentally and physically exhausted. Aching all over I slipped off to go to the bathroom, rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn. Today had been the worst day of my life, but knowing Falkner was ok for now gave me hope that things could get better. He already came through the hardest part… he would be fine.

I kept telling myself as I started the bath and left it to fill up alone. Falkner was in a ball of blankets and foul smelling poison when I returned to him, having rolling from one side to another as if he was going to try and get up himself. I approached him as he wretched violently in pain, tears swelling in his eyes for lack of better days. My heart went out to the bird trainer. He was so helpless.

"It's filling up." I sat beside him and stroked the area on his forehead where skin had not been rubbed raw by the earlier ice. He was very quiet under my fingers, shutting his eyes and tightening his jaw to try and stop his teeth from clacking together. "You poor thing…"

He shook his head to disagree with me, stubborn even now in such a state.

"I'm so glad you're alive." I whispered to him, throat tightening at the very thought of losing this boy. He was too young to leave this world. He needed more than what it had given him so far.

"M—me t—too." He managed through gritted teeth.

I leaned in slowly, pressing my lips against his eyelid gently. "So much for a date huh?"

It felt as if mine and Falkner's first date was actually a million years ago. The day had not been kind to us after so much suffering. It must be some kind of bad omen to have so much trouble on a first date. The trip to the lake to teach him how to swim was long gone and replaced with all of this trouble with Team Rocket.

"A—At least Ja-Jasmine did—dint' call." He replied dryly, though I could tell it was his best attempt at looking at the brighter side. If anyone should be complaining about today it was him. Falkner had suffered more damage than anyone else did—granted it was his own too-brave fault. Once all this suffering passed I would give Falkner a tongue lashing for ever thinking of battling those gyrados alone.

I nuzzled him gently. "You're phone got destroyed right?" I was careful not to mention about drowning in particular, but it suddenly seemed to make sense that the evening had been relatively calm without disturbing phone calls. Of course it was also bad that we had no clue of knowing what was happening at the giftshop where Lance, Gold, and Silver—I begged Arceus to let Silver be ok—were fighting Team Rocket.

Had they defeated them easily? Were they overpowered and beaten? Were they still fighting even now? I hadn't the slightest clue what might be going on, but part of me was happy that we weren't part of it. I didn't even care of I got credit for finding the gift shop giving off the weird signal in the first place. Mr. Kiss my ass, could have all the glory, I didn't care. So long as Falkner was ok.

"W—we le—left my pho—phone a—a—at your ho—house." Falkner spluttered.

"Damn." I murmured sarcastically. "That means I still have to deal with Jasmine calling you."

He didn't respond anymore, but just laid there with wet glossy eyes and listened to the sound of the bathtub filling up.

"M—my bird…" He whispered after a moment. "P—Pride."

My heart sank and my mind reeled back to the horrible moment when I saw the Gyrados land an attack. The large black bird had been struck squarely, blowing it aside and making feathers fly. It had forced Falkner off of it and sent him plummeting down into the water below, where I had then raced out to get him before he could drown. Of course being that he was quite a ways off of the shore, and I had to haul him and excess ice back, it didn't work out so well. I shivered at the cruel memory.

"I—I don't know what happened to him." I admitted, watching tears swell in Falkner's eyes. I often forgot just how much those birds meant to him, and there really was no one else to blame but me. I had been so worried over Falkner that I completely forgot about the Staraptor, Pride.

Falkner sniffed, letting out a small sob.

"But Silver was there to battle the gyrados when I pulled you out of the lake…" I told him. "The gyrados had their attention on him then… Pride could have just flown away."

Falkner shook his head, lip quivering.

"I didn't see him go in the water…" I whispered. "I only saw you…"

It didn't help; Falkner was just too selfless when it came to those birds. I begged Arceus to let Pride be alright for his sake. Falkner couldn't handle anymore trauma.

"Come on Sweetheart." I made move to change the subject. "I'll carry you."

He was a relatively dead weight under my hands, and though I was as gentle as I could be, I knew his skin was sensitive from the ice earlier. He shook violently, gasping as I flipped the blankets off of him and reached out, glad that Falkner was of light weight. Any heavier and my arms would have gone out a while ago. His beautiful lanky body curled up as I looked him over, ignoring the obvious parts he was trying to hide. So self-conscious even now… I sighed, lifting him into my arms. He burrowed into my chest for any little bit of warmth he could manage.

We went to the bathroom silently, keeping eye contact and me planting a kiss on his forehead once we were there. The tub was filled about halfway with steaming hot water.

"H—hold on." Falkner trembled, squirming against me. "I—I have to pee."

I set him down on his feet carefully, hoping he wouldn't try and make me leave, and turning to adjust the faucet—though it was turned all the way to the hottest setting. I knelt over the bathtub for a moment, closing my eyes and twirling my fingers in the water.

"M—Morty…" Falkner hissed in pain after a second. "S—shit."

I glanced over my shoulder to see him pissing a sickly grey-purple color. His face was twisted away from me, but it was obvious he was concerned and worried. He didn't flush the toilet when he was done, but merely stood staring at it, looking as if he might pass out.  
"Wh—why?"

I sighed. I didn't want to have to tell Falkner that Gengar saved his life if I didn't have to, but it seemed there was no other explanation for the toxins inside him. He shook harshly, knees weak and hands curled into tight balls.

"Come on, get in here." I took his hand, helping him slowly away from the toilet to the bathtub. "Get in, it's hot."

"M—Morty. B—but w-w-hy?" he stepped heavily into the hot water, using me as a brace as he shifted down into it, flinching at the severe temperature difference. I was about to move away from him to flush the ugly purple away, but he held tight to my hand as he sunk into the tub to his shoulders.

I let him go for a second, swiftly turning to flush the toilet and then reaching out and flipping the light switch. It was harsh and demanding light, painful on tired eyes. Besides the hallway light was plenty. When I turned back to Falkner he was reaching out to me.

"C—c—come in." His eyes were large and pleading, just barely noticeable in the low light. He looked afraid to be alone in the water, which was fine by me.

"Of course." I agreed, wasting no time and stepping in carefully with him. I tried to ignore the piercing hot of the water on my skin as I knelt and curled myself into the crook of him. Water gushed over the edge at our combined mass, and I had to shut the faucet off with my foot to keep us from flooding the bathroom.

Falkner sighed for the first time as I held onto him, feeling his skin under my fingertips. Baths weren't my preferred way to bathe, since it really was just sitting in your own filth, but I knew I would bathe in Falkner's filth every day of my life if I could. I breathed into him, holding the back of his neck while I planted soft, fluttery kisses down his chest.

"Falkner… Gengar saved your life today." I whispered. "He—He went inside of your body and was able to possess you long enough to save you... I—I think he tricked your body into believing that you were still alive."

Falkner seemed to have melted with the water, limp and finally at ease. He didn't not shake violently now, while our skin was burning intense temperature. His skin flushed under me, a quiet reminder of how precious that blood was. I had seen his face blue from the icy chill, and it was nothing like the hot passionate pink of his cheeks now. His lazy aqua eyes lolled back up to meet mine.

"So that was all the blackness…" He was able to say without shaking. "I—I felt like there was nothing but blackness for a while…"

"I'm sorry… but it was the only thing I could do." I cupped my hand in the water and brought it up to his ear. The dried blood relived and trickled away, revealing a slit through the shell of his ear. It was small, but separated the tip of his cartilage with a defined V shape.

"I don't know if you know this or not, but Gengar is a poison type pokemon as well as a ghost type…" I explained mildly. "I think that's why you just pissed purple."

Falkner grunted awkwardly. "Sorry I puked on you before."

I managed a small smile. "That may have had to do with the signal coming from the gift shop in town… Gengar was ill around it, so I guess when we went by it in town, since he was inside you, you were ill as well."

Now that I thought about it that made more sense than thinking Gengar had released toxins into Falkner. It could have just been a side effect of that signal and the ghost that was in him. I felt a little more hopeful now.

"Gift shop?" Falkner's brow pursed together slightly.

I sighed. "While you were at the lake… fighting those gyrados—which was stupid and irrational by the way—I found a signal coming from a gift shop in town. Lance and Gold went to investigate and I never got the chance to see what happened because you were in danger then… but I know it had something to do with Team Rocket."

Falkner merely adjusted in response, sinking further into the water and curling his toes with mine. I didn't miss the way his body was so tender in comparison to mine. I was very tight, compact muscles while he was much more agile and bird like. He arms were toned and long, as well as his legs, and his torso was flat with a gentle arch in his back—almost like a female's body. He had the perfect backside as well, plump perfect butt cheeks. Unlike my hard flat ones.

I hugged him closely, dearly in the hot water. "Do you want me to wash you?"

He shook his head. "No… Its ok, I'll do it…. Eventually." His voice was coarse and tired.

"I take that as a yes." I leaned over him and grabbed a bottle of hotel body wash.

He didn't argue with me as I sat up, adjusting his legs to be over my lap while I sat horizontal to him. He looked so exhausted as he lay with his head against a towel and the wall.

"You're stunning." I told him, squeezing some of the body wash onto a rag that was hanging on a rack above us.

"Shuddap." He mumbled halfheartedly, his lids twitching open. I curled the rag together until suds slipped down my arms into the warm stagnant water.

"You're sick and have barely enough energy, and yet you still try and push me away." I _tsked_ at him, shaking my head. "Not going to happen."

He turned his head away as I ran the wash cloth over his neck and collar bone. I watched him blush terribly, blinking twice and looking as if he was going to fall asleep. My hands kneaded along his shoulders, moving downward until I met the water. He sat up slightly for me so that I could reach his chest without the suds washing away.

"Arceus… I love you." I shook my head as he ran a dripping hand through his hair. "Are you still cold?"

"Slightly." His lazy eyes rolled back until he was looking at me. "You're making me warm."

I smiled at him, wrapping my arm around his back and shifting him forward until he was curled into my shape. I rubbed the soapy rag along his shoulder blades, kissing his neck and up further until his weak lips parted. I kissed him gently, trying not to feel like this could get any more sexual. He was SICK, I kept telling myself, and yet my dick didn't listen.

"Good." I slipped my hand down under his backside, the rag and the water sloshing past his skin. He flinched away from its slimy, tickling touch.

"You—you don't have to." He tried to say, knowing that I wanted to.

I curled my hand through his privates gently, swishing water up past his belly button and bringing the rag out of the water. I was half way to hard now, but I hoped he wouldn't notice—probably impossible since he was sitting on my lap.

"Mmn…" He fell against my carefully with a shiver, speaking in a small voice. "Will you wash my hair?"

I smiled. "Of course."

"Do it good… with conditioner…" He murmured. "It feels so gross."

I kissed him feverishly while I leaned across to grab the travel size bottle of shampoo and condition. Shampoo first, normally right? I didn't know, considering my bathing consisted of one bottle of men's-everything. I was pretty sure I could use it as lube if I wanted, but my hair was low-maintenance anyways, and now that I thought about it, Falkner's sleek navy hair ALWAYS looked so clean.

I dipped him back carefully, kissing his lips while the back of his head sopped down into the water and came up slicked back and looking long. It was nearly black in the water, a color I found attractive. Over-using shampoo I ran my hands through his hair, rubbing gently at his sensitive temples and the back of his neck while he moved to sink back down. I noticed his nipples were perked from being above the water, and instinctively rolled a hand down his chest to feel it. He gasped at me.

"Stop it…"

"I couldn't help myself." I went back to his hair, stroking luxuriously until he was dripping with foam.

"Oh… Mmmnn." He croaked at my gentle tugs. "Oh Morty…"

"That feels good?" I whispered, my dick twitching with excitement. I tried to reason with it… I really did but it just didn't listen. Falkner tilting his head back and moaning was just too sexual.

He nodded in response as I dipped him back. The half dirt-filled water was now clouded with soap as well. I shook my hand gently through his hair before bringing him up again.

"You know…" He swallowed, blinking away the water from his face. "I hate baths."

"You look like you're enjoying yourself." I squeezed conditioner into my hand.

"I—I hate any large amount of water… but I feel safe right now." He closed his eyes, leaning against me. "Tired… and crappy… but safe."

"I'm going to teach you how to swim." I kissed his forehead. "Because I refuse to lose you to drowning."

He sighed. "Not soon though… right?"

"I'll make you swim whenever I decide I want to." I teased, listening to the lovely _sluissh_ of his hair between my oily feeling fingers. Conditioner didn't foam like shampoo did, but still ran down in a line of thick white on his back and shoulders. I bit my lip as he moaned softly again.

"I'm going to fall asleep…" Falkner hugged my shoulder with his cheek.

"Go ahead. I won't let you drowned." I promised, this time tipping us both back in the now warm water. "Fall asleep Sweetheart."

"Dontnnmm… call mmmmnnn. That."

"No." I perched his head up on the edge of the tub where the towel was. "You're my sweetheart."

"Mmnn…" He grumbled. "Stop."

"Goodnight sweetheart." I laid on top of him.

"Mmmnnrr."

"I love you too." I whispered.


	30. Chapter 30

~Falkner~

"Are we all well again?" Lance- Mr. Kiss my ass as Morty would have called him—spoke in character for us all. The very next day after the trauma at the Lake of Rage and the gift shop in town, a gym leader meeting had been called. I was still exhausted, having slept a shitty tossing and turning four hours on a hotel room bed that was hot one minute and freezing the next. We were all gathered now, together for the first time in a few weeks, in Pryce's chilly gym.

I hated it in here, even in the lobby where there was no ice-death trap to slip on. It was still cold, and the fact that it was ice, the same solid form of water that had nearly killed me yesterday, had my stomach in a knot. Pryce's gym was no place to hold a meeting, and while we huddled together with blankets and morning coffee I felt lonely as ever.

Morty showed no sign of affection towards me while we were around these people, simply because I had told him I didn't know if I wanted them to know. The other gym leaders looked down upon Morty as it is, I didn't want to be a contributing factor to that. And not to mention Jasmine would never speak to me again. I wasn't ready to tell her that Morty was not only the man that saved my life, but the… lover? Boyfriend? Whatever he was to me… I never thought I would have that. I still wasn't convinced that I was gay… but whatever, I simply didn't care at the moment.

"Team rocket ran off…" Gold, the honey eyed boy who held his head high and chest out—the one with the beautiful togekiss I wanted to meet personally—spoke up. "I don't know where they went…"

Lance took a deep breath. "Let's not focus on them for the moment. Is everyone all right?"

All the eyes in the room turned to me, careful, begging for an answer as to what exactly had happened yesterday. I could imagine that Silver told them part of the story, but I didn't know to what extent. The foxy redhead standing a little ways off from Gold was the only person who wouldn't look at me. Instead he rather looked miserable, arms crossed and hair falling over his eyes.

"I—I'm fine." I said awkwardly.

"Really?" Jasmine, her light chestnut eyes weak with remorse asked me. I couldn't tell if that was honest sincerity or sarcasm in her tone. "Falkner… you—your different now. Something's wrong with you."

I knew her words were more personal than she made them sound. She wanted to know what happened to our friendship, why I pushed her away so long ago for trying to hold my hand. She wanted to know how I got myself into this mess. A lulling sadness crept into my heart. Jasmine was a sweet girl, she deserved better than my half-assed affection.

"He said he's fine." I was surprised when it was Clair who spoke up for me. She was on my left sharing the huge furry blanket made of ursaring. Her voice was mildly snide. "Jasmine I think you have changed to be honest. We had team rocket here yesterday and Chuck got hear even before you did. Where were you?"

"No one's changed." I insisted in a low voice. Now was not the time to point fingers at each other.

"The light house pokemon is sick again… I—I came as soon as I could but I couldn't leave it." Jasmine defended, sitting across from us on another couch with Chuck peeping down her shirt from behind. Bugsy was at her left, holding his knees to his chest and shivering. Whitney was on her right happy with her hot chocolate but shifting awkwardly in a skirt she had torn yesterday while investigating the damage at the lake. There was a tight rip all the way up to her mid-thigh.

"I think team rocket is a little more serious than a sick pokemon Jasmine." Clair snorted.

"Shut up Clair." Lance barked. "We are here to discuss what to do next, not point fingers."

"I'm going to punch you in the balls." Clair snarled at her mentor. The two had grown up with this kind of relationship. Hating each other for having to be related do to arranged family marriage. Though they both loved dragons and being the best, neither wanted to share the name with each other. Clair despised Lance for being her mentor, but I wasn't convinced either of them didn't love each other. And I didn't mean love as in a friendly cousin way, I meant hot furious rape kind of love. They didn't share blood… so I guess that was no big deal, but Clair screamed "give me your dick" every time their eyes met. It was quite disturbing.

"Does anyone hear have an idea of where Team Rocket is heading next?" Lance ignored Clair.

"Olivine." Silver answered immediately, his narrowed steely eyes low as everyone turned to him. "Gold and I have been placing blocks of ice through the cave on the way to Blackthorn… if they are trying to run from us they won't go a direction they can't get through."

"You've been blocking the ice cave this whole fucking time!?" Clair looked at the two top trainers in hate. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY BATTLES IVE LOST!"

Gold laughed sheepishly, startled by her outburst. I personally wanted to cover my ears like Bugsy did.

"Dammit Clair, shut the fuck up!" Morty was standing, irritated beside me and growled.

"Enough with this use of language in my gym." Pryce, in his old age, rumbled. He looked completely unfazed by the cold while he sat in the huge single person throne-like chair in this cold lobby. A piloswine was making faint snuffling noises in his lap, its shaggy hair falling in clumps around his feet. Of all the pokemon it was those kinds that bothered me most. I just didn't enjoy things that shed and left clingy hair all over the place. It was nothing like the beautiful white down that birds gave off when they molted.

"So… If Team Rocket isn't going towards Blackthorn, that's means they are headed your way Jazz." Whitney nudged her depressed friend. "You better be on the lookout."

The steel trainer sighed. "I—I don't have time to keep an eye out for them. The lighthouse pokemon is suffering… it could be on the verge of death and if it does die then there will be no light to guide the ships in from the sea."

"We'll help you." Chuck put his large hand her the girl's slender shoulder from behind. Arceus he was such a pervert. "My ex wife is now married to the man who runs an herbal medicine store in Cianwood. I'll see if I can get in touch with her… maybe they have something that will help."

"If tried everything…" Jasmine pulled her knees up to her chest.

"Try not to worry." Whitney advised. "But… if Team Rocket comes around you have to notice."

"I know."

"We all have to keep an eye out." Lance said. "There is no telling which way they will go. Morty they could have gone back to Ecruteak already, or they might be passing through to Goldenrod."

Whitney looked frightened at the thought. "Why would they backrack?"

"We don't know if they stopped there for sure." Bugsy piped up. "That last time we saw them was at the slowpoke well… and even though it was horrible all they were doing was cutting and selling slowpoke tails."

"Well it's not that simple now Bugs." Chuck ruffled his friend's grey-purple hair. I decided I didn't like the color because it reminded me of the color of my urine for the last two days. "This time they were planning on destroying the lake and who knows what else." He went on.

"What if they have transportation by air?" I suggested when the room grew quiet. "They could go anywhere."

"Not everyone knows how to fly like you…" Morty glanced down at me, signaling with his eyes that I shouldn't have spoken. He seemed to want us to stay out of it as much as we could, however I felt differently. We would all have to work together at some point to come up with a solution. Morty's gaze was quite demanding compared to the way he looked at me last night. I felt hot with the memory.

He had been so kind to me… so loving in the way he held me in the bath, washing my hair with luxurious suds. I vaguely remembered it because I had been so tired, but I knew it was different than the way he so sexually dry-humped me this morning when I said I was feeling better. I couldn't decide which version of Morty I liked better. The side of him that wanted to hold me and call me his Sweetheart, or the hot passionate horny side that wanted sex the hard way.

"I can't imagine an organization like that would move by air." Lance mumbled. "But that doesn't mean they can't… Valid point." He nodded at me. "And if they can travel by air, they can travel by sea too. Chuck you better not think you are safe just because you're across the bay."

"No sir." Chuck nodded in agreement. "I'll unleash a wrath on anyone who comes into my town."

"Good." Lance agreed. "Now… I'm going to have word with the Elite four members to watch over Mt. Silver and the gateway to Kanto in the meantime. I can't stay long but I'm glad we are all alright. This meeting is adjourned for now, I expect you ALL to be at the next one though." His sharp eyes halted on Morty for a moment, before turning with a swish of his cape. "I wish you the best Pryce!" he called over his shoulder to the old leader who let us use his gym as a meeting spot.

"As do I you." Pryce dipped his head curtly while silencing a squeal from his Piloswine.

"I have to go too." Jasmine pushed up off the couch. "Sorry guys, the light house pokemon needs me." She left in a blur without saying a proper goodbye or anything. I guess I couldn't blame her. It was a day's journey back to Olivine from here and if she wasted any more time she would have to stop and settle in a hotel for the night.

"I have to get home…" I took a deep breath, thinking about all the worry I would be met with from Mama Bird and Jake, who hated when I didn't know for the night. Mama Bird would see all the cuts and bruises I had and fret over me until they disappeared, Jake would looked scared as if his leader was falling, and Zephyr—once I let him out of his pokeball again—would probably shit all over the place in anger. The picture was of no good in my head, but I knew I had to face it. Not to mention I needed to open the gym doors and hope some people would come to battle—I was running low on money already this winter season—and there were numerous chores I would have to do.

"I'm on the way, I'll walk with you." Morty tried to sound nonchalant.

"And I'm heading west." Gold said in a taut voice. "So we might as well walk together right? Silver?"

Silver said nothing at first, looking down at his feet with a shallow depression. "No… I—I think I'm going to check the blockage in the ice cave."

"Oh…" Gold looked displeased. "W—Well you better call me then… to let me know how it looks."

Silver nodded as the three of us moved to leave.

"Morty." Leader Pryce rumbled from his chair before we could walk away. The ghost trainer turned back with a slight frown on his face, expecting to be scolded for something.

"I want to thank you…" He said slowly. "It was you who found the signal was it not?"

Morty, the most stubborn and proud person I knew shook his head. "No sir, that was Lance." He lied smoothly, making the dragon tamer himself look up in surprise. I hadn't the slightest clue why Morty wouldn't want to take the glory for what he did, but then again… it reminded me of the way my father used to be. He was never a man for compliments or appreciation. He told me once that no one should be thanked unnecessarily for doing something that was their job. He said it made people expect rewards for things we should do without being asked. A warm bubbling sensation came over me, and I looked at Morty, proud of his honor and dignity. Pryce nodded to him as well, knowing that it was not Lance but not daring argue with him either.

"What about me?" Gold, who was not so honorable or mature, snorted. "I single handedly beat Team Rocket!"

Pryce chuckled darkly. "Oh my boy… I do hope you come back to battle me soon."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the honey eyes boy curled his lip carefully, ignoring the way Chuck and Bugsy giggled.

I shook my head, nudging Morty to go with a small smile on my face. Gold didn't understand just what honor meant yet, which was a sign that he still had a lot of growing to do.

"It means he wants to kick your ass." Silver grumbled to his rival, shoving him aside slightly to leave. I huffed a laugh as the steel eyed boy passed us, head down and shaking it slowly.

"Those two need to get laid." Morty whispered to me as we headed down a hallway, leaving the other remaining gym leaders behind.

"Haha." I bit my lip. "I was actually just thinking that Silver reminded me of you."

Morty turned a crooked, evil smile down at me. "That's because I have to get laid too."


	31. Chapter 31

~Falkner~

There was something… odd about my home lately. It was two days since I left Morty back in Ecruteak and began at the gym again. I had gotten hear in high hopes of being able to settle down and get back into the swing of things, to act as if I hadn't almost died and Morty and I hadn't bathed together so sexually. I wanted to pretend that I wasn't still lingering with purple urine and random stomach cramps—what was I a PMSing chick? I had to get things back to normal before I my rebound was covered up by a relapse. I was lonely, paranoid, and mostly heartbroken.

Upon being back home I had hope that my bird—my warrior—Pride would have been here. I had high hopes that he would have escaped the water of the lake and flew away before further harm, but it seemed luck just wasn't on my side. Pride was nowhere to be seen, and Mama Bird's frantic state was proof enough that he hadn't been here. I cried and cried the first evening I got home, making myself sick once again and eventually having no choice but to try and sleep off the pain of losing the strongest bird companion.

Pride was a warrior, an honorable bird that held his head high and never backed down. He was a natural leader, a fighter, but apparently didn't have the strength to make it. I didn't know what this sanctuary would be without Pride anymore, since he had played an important role in keeping the flock together, and even fathering young that was not his by blood. I just hoped me and Mama Bird had the heart to keep it going.

But that was the other problem. My father's beloved Pidgeot, MY only known mother for these long eighteen years was pushing her years, and though she was state-of-the-art healthy, that didn't mean that a broken heart couldn't damage her. Mama Bird was frail with me, staying inside the last two nights and sleeping in my bed with Zephyr and I, often trying to keep awake when really I just wanted her to rest. She may not have had any blood relation to Pride, but she mothered everyone equally, and so her heart was as broken as mine. I didn't know what I would do if I lost Mama Bird as well as Pride…

Even Zephyr seemed to feel the trauma in the air, though oblivious to the things that happened at the lake, he didn't protest when I wanted to hug him. He seemed to sense that something was very wrong, and being that he was so young I wasn't sure he put the pieces together or not- Pride wasn't coming back.

Our small flock—my family—was broken. I had no deputy to rely on anymore, and the chance that I could create a bird of his stature soon was impossible. Renegade was no family bird… he was, well, a renegade. He was an outcast, a bird scarred by years of battling and wild hardship that had run from his problems instead of facing them through love. This was the first time that I actually felt like I couldn't break a bird; that I had failed.

It was early Monday morning after another sleepless night, and I found myself at my father's grave outside the small town of Violet. I hadn't been here in a while, and it almost felt wrong to be here now. Wrong because I felt peace here when I couldn't even feel that in my own home. Something had been keeping me up at night lately. Noises I couldn't put a name to, the sound of birds calling—noises very familiar and yet so far away. I heard the sound of boots one night, and had smelt heavy tea when Arceus knows I hated tea with a passion. There wasn't a trace of it in my household, and yet I had smelt it.

I was scared of my own home. I was scared of being alone. I was scared of not having Pride and losing my gym because there hadn't been a challenger in weeks. Everything was crashing down on me, and all the while I couldn't comprehend the things that had happened a few days ago at the lake.

Had I been dead? Had Gengar brought me back to life, or had he merely saved my life just in time? I remembered nothing but blackness for a short period of time, and throughout that blackness I was lost. I couldn't remember anything and I hated myself for not being able to. I hated myself for not being able to swim, and being so stupid as to think that I could have beaten those Gyrados alone. I hated that I had lost Pride, I hated everything at the moment.

At my father's grave I said nothing. No apologies for losing Pride, no "I miss you"s or "I need you"s, no nothing. Just tears of pure remorse and broken sobs I couldn't put a name to. The winter wind blew through my hair and clothes and had Zephyr curling himself between the crook of my neck and shoulder. We lay together for a long time, me shaking and losing a battle of exhaustion with myself.

Eventually Mama Bird and Jake came to find me, crooning softly seeing as though my tears had started to turn to slush against the stone of my father's grave. Mama Bird pulled herself in against my back, settling and lying her head atop my shoulder, telling me in the only way she could that it would be ok. She picked from my hair affectionately, breathing softly, rhythmically until my eyes started to droop.

Jake, being much more timid and unsure of how to comfort, pushed himself beneath my arm, yearning for me to show him affection because if I did then at least he would know I was ok. He rubbed his sleek head against my chest, worry clouding his handsome face.

This was my family, the only stable things I had in my life. Mama Bird was my instinct and love, Jake was my intuition and devotion, Zephyr was my heart, my best friend, my soul, my passion and personality. These birds were my everything, and a sever chunk of me was gone now. Pride was my rock, my deputy, my strength; I didn't know what I would do without him.

I hadn't slept in nearly three days…

I was sick.

Lonely.

Guilty.

So it was no surprise when I woke to find myself two hours into night time with Mama Bird pushing her beak against my face to rouse me. Jake had disappeared beneath my arm, and Zephyr was all the way down into my shirt where it was safe from the cold. I blinked at the dark night sky above me, shivering madly as Mama Bird stood and stretched, nudging me afterwards to get up and do the same. It was too cold to stay out any longer.

Snow was starting to fall for the first time this season, flitting around me like pieces of white dust. They stuck to the surface of my father's grave in every place except where I had been laying, and so a silhouette of myself started to outline there. The warmth of my body was enough to melt the snow long enough to show me the exact shape in which I had been laying, and I stared at it as long as I could, finding great disturbance.

It was like the snow—the winter—was outlining my death on my father's grave. I stifled the emotion rising in my chest as Mama Bird tried to hoist me up.

I had to shake my head at her though, there was no way I could go back home and face another sleepless night smelling tea that I did not make and hearing boots on the wood floors I did not have. I didn't want to think I was going crazy, just for tonight. I had to leave… and as much as I hated to admit it I knew where to go.

"I love you." I stood, brushing myself off and leaning over to hug Mama Bird. "Thanks for being my mother."

Zephyr perked up between us, shaking his head drowsily and yawning. Mama Bird looked at me fretfully, desperate as if she thought I was going to go kill myself.

"I'll be back tomorrow." I looked her in the eyes. "I promise."

She shook her head softly as I turned and made not towards the gym, but for route thirty-six, where I knew Morty would be waiting for me at the end.

…..

~Morty~

Fucking sexual tension. Fucking inability to fucking jack off.

"SHADOW BALL!" I snarled, restraining myself from yelling "Falkner's balls!" instead. It was hard being me sometimes, you now… when I'm pissy and can't sleep at night and have had a few shots to drink ALONE.

There was no one here at this abandoned now burned tower that once inhabited many, many ghosts. The alcoholics' where not at the bar anymore—there was no bar—and the cotton candy faced child was lost in the rubble that used to be the most presumptuous hotel, training tower, and land mark in Ecruteak. I was completely alone, taking my anger out on the heaps of wooden pillars and cement bricks. The basement still had char-burned walls around it, so I found myself there where the toxins from the poison attacks my pokemon unleashed could consume me.

Anyone who wasn't exposed to this poison on a regular basis might pass out because of the fumed, but I breathed it in, completely immune. Chunks of debris flew as my Haunter landed an attack on the wall. Things crackled and popped and fizzed with darkness as I stood, flipping my scarf around and snorting. Gengar was on his last day of recovery from the battles he fought at the Lake of Rage a few days ago, so I was training vigorously with my second in command.

Haunter was a turd of a pokemon though, and had he a solid body I would have thrown a brick at him for not obeying me as quickly as possible. Gengar and I had been together from the start—him having followed a helpless orphan like me through eighteen years of hell and cafeteria food. We weren't quite friends, not equals either, nor partners. More or less our relationship was of master and master. I owned him, he owned me, the roles switched depending on the situation. None the less the healthy purple blob was my companion, and certainly a better one than this Haunter.

"Haunter." I folded my arms through the dust that had been kicked up, waiting. "Haunter dammit!"

"Ma—Maybe you should try being a little nicer to your pokemon!"

I whirled, looking up at the broken staircase to see a man standing, baby faced in the dull moonlight with slicked back pale brown hair. I narrowed my eyes at the stranger.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Y—you don't know?" He asked, creaking down the last remaining wooden steps until he was at my level, across the basement floor where Haunter had thrown the attack.

"No." I said curtly. "And I suggest you leave, I'm the gym leader in this town and I'm training, so if you would—

"I'm Eusine."

"I don't care. I'm training." I glowered as the figure walked towards me, revealing the features of his rounded face slowly. He had round eyes, kind of wide set for a man, and a dull color I couldn't make out. He so obviously had a cape—faggot—oh wait… im a hypocrite aren't I? I glared, feeling much more masculine next to this fool than I had in a long time. He was actually so feminine that I didn't feel gay at all. I felt my dick turning off at the sight, deflating under his curious gaze.

"I—I've come here to investigate though. I really to do this… Please."

"Investigate my ass! Go away."

"Bu—But the legendary Suicune was here!" He balled his small hands up into fists. "I cannot leave until I collect traces of it!"

"Morty I—

"How do you know my name?" I growled.

"You're the gym leader, everyone knows your name."

"Then address me as such."

He sighed. "Leader Morty… please, just let have a few minutes."

I folded my arms. "How about a battle instead. I win and you go crawl back to wherever you came from."

"No." He disagreed. "A pokemon battle might ruin the remains of Suicune around here!"

I threw my hands up in annoyance, cursing under my breath as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cruelly bright flashlight. "Seriously. Fuck." I flinched.

"I'll only be a few moments!" Eusine chirped.

It seemed as though tonight was just not going to be my night. "You must be on drugs." I hissed as I walked past him. He dropped to his knees right where he was and started looking at the dirty, booze soaked ground in amazement. He was obviously preparing for something that would take much, much longer than a few moments.

"Leader Morty!" I was called just as I had reached the stairs.

"What?!"

"I—I want to thank you for saving my life on the night of the fire." Eusine smiled at me.

I recalled there had been someone else in this tower with me when Falkner saved my life, but I hadn't recognized him as such. There was no memory of me saving him either, and as far as I was concerned that meant that I didn't.

I shook my head. "You're mistaking. The Violet city Gym leader, Falkner, saved your life. Not me."

I left without another word, ignoring his protest and heading back up the unstable path to the main floor of the burned tower. If I didn't even have a battleground to call my own, then what did I have?

It was a short walk back up to my gym in this old town, while pokemon hooted in the breeze and snow began to fall for the first time this season. I wasn't sure why I was in such a bad mood—actually it was because I hadn't heard Falkner's voice in two days—but I told myself to get over it anyways. I would call Falkner tomorrow and see how he was doing. Three days was enough time to let him sort out the gym he left behind… right?

I hated that Falkner did all the work around his gym himself, whereas I was selfish and wealthy enough to pay people to keep the candles lit and the dust away. Oh, except now Marshmellow/Squishy/Litwick/whatever the hell I wanted to call him at the moment, took great pride in keeping my candles lit every second of every day. Even so, I still paid the elderly ladies for being there with their cigarette-smoking stained teeth and their superstition I couldn't understand.

I pulled my keys out of my pocket as I stepped up the porch to my house, having gone around the back entrance where my living room lay with a huge arrangement of French doors. I unlocked one swiftly, pushing it open and tossing aside the light black curtain that shielded it from the moonlight. Marshmellow greeted me with his religious dance of moving his fat face side to side while I stared in confusion and slight disturbance.

"How are you even a ghost?" I shook my head at him, sighing, but reaching out anyways to poke the warm waxy side of his head. He made a kind of giggling noise in response before bouncing away to light a candle that had blown out when I opened the door.

"Gaahhr."

"Gengar." I commented as a shadow in the blackness tugged on my pant leg. "What is it?"

"Geh!" I peered through the dimply lit living room to where my thick leather couches lay. My pokemon wafted over in a rush, excited over something. I scowled, hoping one of the elderly ladies hadn't left me another stray in hopes that I would take care of it again. I told those women time and time again not to bring things to me! If it wasn't a ghost I wouldn't have it. I barely could handle a Litwick.

"Gahh!"

I narrowed my eyes through the dark as I walked over to my couch, jumping slightly as a very faint breath sounded. Gengar reached up to feel my hand in the dark, leading me forward until I could make out the very familiar body that lay snoring on my couch.

"Falkner?" I shook my head, bending down and knowing that this was a dream. No doubt I would wake up with morning wood that I couldn't jack off any moment now…. Any… moment now.

"Falkner…" I repeated again, reaching down to scoop up the dead weight in my arms. Dream or not... "Oh you're asking for it." I swung him limply up into me, ignoring his drowsy protest and carrying him to my bedroom. "Did you come here for sex?" I asked.

Nothing but a soft snore answered me.

"What the hell Falkner… you come here dead tired? Damn." I whispered, careful not to wack his head against anything in the hallway to my bedroom. Last time he had been here with me in my room I shoved a phone down his pants… kinky right? I snickered at the thought.

Rolling my eyes I kicked my bedroom door open and brought him to the huge bed, sliding him over into it and then unzipping his jacket. I pulled the thick flight-suit material off and sniffed it feverishly, drinking in his scent for a moment before tossing it aside and undoing my pants. I stripped until I was in just my boxers and scarf, and then clambered in next to the navy haired boy.

He grunted in response to me holding him tightly. "M—Morrty…"

"What if I told you I was going to rape you?"

"Shhuuddaaap." He pushed weakly against my face as I flicked my hot tongue at his earlobe. "I came here… to…mmm, sleep."

I sighed heavily. "I can't be that boring can I?"

He shook his head slowly, lulling.

"Dammit." I kissed the back of his neck. "One of these days you're mine."

"Mmmn… Luff you."

My heart nearly stopped; all traces of anger and annoyance from tonight vanishing instantly. Falkner had never said he loved me before… and he may have not meant it just now… could be delusional from lack of sleep… but…but!

"What?" I choked awkwardly, hoping he would say it again.

My only answer was a content snore.


	32. Chapter 32

~Jasmine~

"NO! ST—STOP!"

My panties were ripped off in a blur, being tossed away as a weight too heavy came over me, snapping my knees up and curling my toes back to reveal the pink flesh that was my vagina. I gasped, screaming and panting as a rough and scratchy mustache invaded the space that had never before been touched.

My father was a businessman, traveling constantly between Johto and Kanto do to the high demands between both pal park and safari zone. He rarely came, rarely called, though we talked over skype pretty much every other day. He loved me like daddy's little girl should, and I loved him like the father he was. It was simple, peaceful, and yet he had left me alone to run a gym at the age of nineteen, claiming that if anyone could do it, I could.

And he was right I could, but the problem was that the gym he left me was across the bay from his old drinking buddy, Chuck, who had always had eyes for me. My father refused to believe as such of course, but I had never really told him anyways. I didn't know how to speak up about something like this, especially considering that Chuck was my godfather AND often told the world that he was my Uncle as well.

This lead my down a dark path of no return one night, when my feelings for Falkner had gotten in the way of my fuzzy head and I found myself at a bar in town. It was nearly vacant, having just a bartender and a homeless woman asleep at one of the booths. I felt safe hear, drowning in my sorrows with a man's drink. No fruity light weight beverages for me thank you. No I took a shot of whiskey, letting it singe my throat happily.

And then Chuck showed up, already drunk out of his mind and reeking of sweat. I rarely saw this side to my "Uncle" and wasn't thrilled to be seeing it now. He had wrapped his huge hand around my arm and yanked me outside, dragging me through the chilly streets to an alleyway where the seawater turned over into sewer water and smelt of high heavens. It was here that I was too weak to protest, and found myself getting raped.

Chuck snorted like a pig as he ravished me, animal like sounds as he tore my virgin hole into a lovely red, blooming flower of blood. I cried, but did not protest, knowing that there was no reason. Chuck was one of the most well loved gym leaders, and he was the second oldest, meaning naturally he had more power—granted he never used it. Chuck was invincible in my world, and there was no reason to fight it, seeing as though it would only hurt more.

My frail arms shook as he left harsh, knuckle gripping welts, pushing me harder down on him until I could hear an inevitable slap every time his hairy balls came in contact with my butt. Tears streamed down my face, but never grew to sob, considering every time they tried to he would swat me across the face with a bare hand.

"You're father said look after you." Chuck kept repeating between grunts, repeating the words Boaba, the great safari warden, my father, said before he left for Kanto a few years ago. I didn't understand the significance in those words, because it was obvious this was not looking after me. This was torturing me.

And the worst part was I couldn't resist, not because I didn't want to, but because I was simple not able to. I felt frozen within myself, stunned and drunk into lulling, lagging movements that felt no mercy on my mind. Chuck tore the front of my dress open at one point, biting my left nipple so hard it also started to bleed. I bit my lip in agony, hating all this and hating myself.

Chuck had always been a pervert, but until now I didn't see the true pretense to his ways. Though if I had listened to my instinct a long time ago none of this would have been happening right now. I should have trusted myself more… I should have trusted my father less for picking a guardian to be there for me if I needed it.

My father… I loved my father very much, and he loved me so much that he would never put me in danger knowingly. I refused to believe that man knew his friend would end up to be the way he was today. A gross old drunk raping a nineteen year old girl.

I cried silently as he pried my legs apart, pulling the raw, angry purple sausage of a dick out of me and giving it a few pumps. He said nothing but my name as he yanked me around, shoving me to my knees and gripping a fistful of my hair so tightly that I felt shallow scrapes bleed on the pavement.

He came in my mouth, on my face, down my neck, everywhere it seemed. I was drowning in the unpleasant hot liquid, wishing death over this any day. Still I made no attempt to fight back, though my heart screamed in misery.

I thought of Falkner while Chuck was raping me, and how I knew the navy haired bird trainer would be the kind of man to take it slowly in a soft bed. He would be unsure of himself, nervous and full of blushing. He would hold me and ask me if I was ok when I moaned… not slap me in the face and pull my hair. I imagined his pretty aqua eyes brimming over with happiness when we finished together. Falkner would cum respectively in a condom I assumed… unlike this brute of a man.

Think of Falkner… Think of Falkner. I told myself as a hot, vein-littered cock made me gag. There was a moment when bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it before actually vomiting. Chuck finished me with a pat on the top of the head, sliding his pants back up all the way over his large stomach, and sighing.

"Just like your mother…" were the last words out of Chuck's mouth before he turned and left me stranded in an alley, bleeding slightly and shaking as the chilly ocean breeze nipped at me. My heart was breaking.

My father and Chuck were best friends, and yet now suddenly things all made sense.

Chuck's wife had left him two years ago—around the time my father left for Kanto—and my mother who had been one hell of a woman before she vanished off the face of the earth, had been cheating on my father.

The sobs came now as I pictured the kind, skinny woman who taught me how to raise steel pokemon. She was me in the mirror, with my long dusty hair and chestnut eyes and plump pink lips. My mother had always been something of importance to me, even after she ran away. My father never dwelled over her though, and I envied him most because of it.

I cried. Cried and cried and cried until it all built a horrible vivid puzzle in my head. My mother had an affair with Chuck and vice versa, Chuck's wife left him, my father retreated to Kanto and business to escape the pain because my mother left him as well. Everything in my pleasant little life suddenly came crashing down around me. And the worst part…

There was nothing I could do.

….

~Falkner~

"OH… oh…. Ahwww...!"

Morty snapped the buttons on my jeans with firm hands, straddling me by the thighs and leaning over to engage in a hot, wet, morning make out session. I was winded, my head was spinning, dick hard and eyes watery as he bite at my ear—the one that wasn't slit from the battle with the Gyrados.

"I'm going to fuck you." Morty huffed over me, pinning my shoulders back and laying himself against my chest. "Falkner… oh fuck…" His bulging boxers stroked my pelvis harshly, creating much anticipated friction between our clothes.

"N—No. Stop!" I fought against him, pushing against his chest as his tongue reached out to shake hands with mine. Morty had a slender but long tongue, one that was capable of performing tricks in other people's mouths.

"No!" Morty huffed. "You're teasing me!"

"I—I didn't do anything!" I kicked and flailed as his thick muscles pressed down on me, hand between my jeans and my boxers, trying to find the entrance to the dark side. A place where bare hands besides my own had never touched.

"You're so fucking CUTE DAMMIT!" He pulled his arms up and pinned me in a more forceful position, dipping his head down and licking my perked nipples with luxurious laps. He gnawed slightly, making me yelp.

"MORTY! STOP!" I yanked as hard as I could the other way, unable to take it any longer and kneeing him in the stomach as hard as I could. He drew back with a grunt, giving me the chance to roll away.

Roll right onto the floor that is. I landed with a terribly hard thud on the cherry wood flooring, having fallen a good four feet from the top of his enormous black bed. It was enough to make my hip and shoulder throb, but not enough to disorient me. I scrambled, slipping slightly and then taking off to the bathroom.

"Falkner!" Morty's winded voice came as I ran. From the corner of my eyes I saw him chasing me, pure sexual NEED in his eyes. I just barely flung myself into the bathroom and locked the door before he caught me.

Hands slammed down on the thick wood and a defeated groan followed.

"FALKNER!" He whined; a pure angsty sound.

I slipped my swollen erection from my pants and began to pump swiftly, touching my own chest and squeezing my eyes shut. I knew the only way to escape Morty was to get rid of the problem myself. I sat awkwardly, backwards on his toilet, huffing louder and faster as my heart pounded, eyes closed.

"You're so mean!" Morty insisted. "Gengar! Unlock the door!"

Too late. I was already mid-cum, convulsing over the toilet and trying not to let it fly anywhere but inside. Milky white strands shot down and dripped, making a soft noise. The salty smell of morning sex wafted past my nose and surely beneath the crack in the door. I gasped, flopping limply over the tank and flushing even as I finished, raping the handle over and over again until all traces of me were gone. My face was hot, flaming with heat actually.

I just barely got my dick back in my pants before Morty opened the door and flew at me, knocking me off the toilet with his shoulder and onto the cold tile floor, snarling as if he wasn't too late. I bit my lip, still dizzy from the act.

"Falkner!" He barked at me, covering his face and sliding down the wall across from me. The look on his face was of pure frustration. He even pulled at his own hair as if he would really rip it out.

"I—I'm sorry." I coughed. "But I didn't ask to be woken up by your groping!"

I had been sleeping so soundly for the first time in three days, warm and happy just to be in his arms while mild dreams—much more peaceful than I had in a long time—danced around my brain. I was barely on the verge of being awake and falling back to sleep when a feather-light touch dragged me towards he awakened world. Morty had rubbed my ass while I tried to fall back to sleep—and I almost had—but then seeing as though he got no reaction he moved inward, palming my crotch slowly until a boner had started to awaken as well as me.

"You didn't ask to come here either." His violet eyes glared up at me. "You'll be the death of me I swear it you will!"

"Why don't you just jack off?!" I threw my hands up in frustration. "I'm not your sex toy."

"You said you loved me." He set his jaw tight.

"I never said that." I pushed up off the floor, snorting softly to myself. Morty was a liar, I never told him I loved him…. Even if it was sort of true. I wasn't ready to face him with those words.

"You did!" He reached out and grabbed my pant leg, literally clingy to me while I tried to walk away. He refused to let go, making me drag his ass halfway out of the bathroom before threatening to slam the door on his head.

"You said you love me last night!" Morty wailed like a child throwing a tantrum. "Falknnnneeeerrrr… I can't jack off!"

"You've got hands, you've got a dick. Of course you can." I rolled my eyes, kicking my leg away from him and walking off towards his bed where my shirt was hanging at the foot, ready to slip off.

"No, but I won't cum." He got up and followed me, touching the small of my back with his flat palm and pushing his face between my shoulders. "Would it really be that bad?"

Would it? I couldn't put a name to the way Morty and sex together made me feel. It was as if the idea of having sex with him turned me on and turned me off at the same time. To start with I had never lost my virginity before, and I wasn't sure doing it with a MAN was the correct way to lose it. Not to mention Morty would be topping me and I wasn't sure I was ready for that. Plus… the whole thing just… frightened me.

What would happen afterwards? Would Morty have gotten what he wanted? Would he forget about me and move on to the next victim? I hated thinking this way, especially after the sweet and loving way he took care of me in Blackthorn city, but it wasn't my fault when he was so damn horny.

But he told me he loved me…. Didn't that mean anything?

The ghost gym leader sighed, leaning against my back and wrapping his arms around my middle. It couldn't be trusted, so I unwrapped him and turned around, facing those light violet eyes determinedly.

"I'm not ready to have sex with you." I admitted.

He pouted.

"But… I… uhh…" Had to look away for one thing. My eyes reverted down to the large bump in his boxers. How bad could a little friendly help be? If Morty couldn't get off on his own… I swallowed, choking the word. "H—handjob…"

His eyes grew wide. "You're offering?"

I turned a terrible cherry red.

"Blowjob too?" His face was suddenly beaming.

"No!"

He grunted. "Fine…"

"Don't you dare try and pull anything on me either." I warned, narrowing my eyes up at him. He leaned in swiftly, kissing my swollen lips from out previous making out. I sighed as he was looking both thrilled and disappointed at the same time.

"Promise."

Sure he SAID that, but I wasn't convinced he meant it. Especially not when he grinned wickedly at me, winking and clambering onto the bed and then falling with a luxurious ifwump/i into the dozen or so extra-fluffy pillows. It was useless to have so many pillows on your bed if you ask me, but hell, I wasn't complaining.

I stared at him—still in boxers—for a short moment before climbing up and lying next to him, taking a deep breath and trying not to let the smell of the room get to me. It was warm and inviting and sexual, wafting with scented candles that remained lit even in the daytime.

"Aren't you going to… urr…"

He shook his head, smiling softly, luxuriously with his hands behind his head. "You do it."

I shifted up onto my knees, trying to ignore the thumping of my heart as his silky boxers became a wrapping paper under my hands. I tugged softly, fighting with the bulge beneath until it jack-in-the-boxed out, standing at perfect attention.

If a dick could be proud, his was. It was sleek in the lowlight, curving gently up from where his gentle even balls were, to the beautiful diamond shaped head. It was like a miniature arbok, swollen, twitching for attention. I was suddenly regretting jacking off on my own, since the strange feeling of admiration tugged at my stomach but did not give me the satisfaction of erection.

"Do it slowly…" Morty instructed, long before I was ready.

I took it in for another long moment, realizing that this was the first time I would ever touch another man's penis, and the first time I would ever touch anyone where their clothes normally didn't expose.

"Are you admiring me?" Morty whispered after a moment, raising his hips and shifting down so that it was closer to me. "It's long and solid… and the skin is tight…"

"I—I can see that." I worked up the courage in me to reach forward, with one finger and lay it upon the tip where two tiny holes pierced through. Feather-light I traced the shape of his head with my finger, watching the way it twitched as I did so, rubbing against the side of my hand where my thumb met my palm. I could not. Believe. I was doing this…

"Ahhh…." Morty breathed. "Lick it…"

"No." I shook my head at him, letting my hair fall in front of my eyes where he couldn't see them.

"Stroke it."

My fingertips curled around the trunk gently, testing it between my thumb carefully while making a larger OK shape with my hand than usual. It dawned on me then that his dick was thicker than my own, and that if the day ever came and we did actually have sex… I would be in a world of pain.

I swallowed harshly, using my other hand and finger to trace the gently crease between his balls, then the short flat space below that, separating it from his asshole. Morty was virtually hairless, except for an artfully sculpted patch rising up from the base of his dick to halfway up to his belly button. It was the same dull, dirty blond that his hair was.

"Mmmn…" Morty reacted with a moan. "Kiss me…"

Upon looking away from his solid—and dare I say stunning—erection, I was able to focus more. I leaned over him my leg hooking around his as I fell at his side, using my free hand to tilt his face towards mine. Kissing Morty was one thing I truly did enjoy about our relationship. Even if our relationship wasn't a very good one, I still loved the way our mouths moved together. I loved his fancy tongue tricks against mine.

We shared saliva for a long moment, while I nonchalantly pumped him and he grazed the shape of my hand happily, deepening the strokes with his hips until I could feel the warm, slimy sensation of pre-cum dripping down my wrist. Morty was shaking beneath me, on the verge of dominance in which I knew he would flip me over and pin me into having hot, wild animal sex with him.

I kissed him harder, hooking my teeth lightly around his bottom lip when he least expected me to. He fought back with a snap, tugging the hair on the nape of my neck and breathing heavily into me.

"Harder." He was on his side now, slowly itching his way closer to me as my hand curled this way and that, frustrating the fleshy colors into an arrangement of splendor and glory. He gasped softly at one point, cringing into me and raking his teeth against my neck.

"Falkner…" He huffed. "Say my name."

I never thought I was the kind of person to be good at sex, or anything even remotely sexual to begin with, so when the dirty name slipped between my teeth I was thoroughly surprised with myself.

"MmmMorty." I pulled one hand up his flat, muscled stomach slowly, reaching up to graze his chest and nipples. That action sent him spiraling though, and I assumed he felt like he was losing dominance of some sort with me or something, since before I had the chance to think straight he was sucking fiercely at my neck, determined to leave me the hicky of the century.

Hissing with pain at his bite and I tore at his cock, ramming it back and forth harder than I would my own and gripping his ass tightly with my other hand. My narrow, little nails drew lines of red through the pale skin of his backside and he grunted in alarm. This wasn't the way he planned on things going… I knew that, but it suddenly felt too good to stop. We were fighting for dominance and for once, I was winning.

A short lived victory however, since Morty pushed up and shouldered me down onto the bed, digging his elbows into my shoulders and looking me dead in the eyes as he dropped his hips in a low sweeping motion and convulsed.

All that pent up sexual energy… in the form of molten, slimy, hot fervent… I—I couldn't even…

His head fell back then as he mounted me furiously, smashing my hand between our bodies and pinning me with tired gasps as cum sandwiched between us. It was erotic and sexy and violent and hair-raising to know that I had so much power over him. For the first time I felt like I could make him crazy if I really wanted to.

And part of me truly wanted to.

I hitched my legs up around his back, my heels landing with faint thuds above his ass as he grunted and snorted and growled, drilling me into the black sheets. He dampened the front of my pants with his cum, not stopping until every last drop had been squeezed out.

He kissed me then, falling limply to a stop and breathing heavily, chest heaving as if he had just taken another knee to the gut.

I couldn't believe what I had just done… and to think that was only very mild compared to what sex could be between us. My heart thumped gracelessly as we lay together, my fingers kneading the soft skin of his dick's head, thumb stroking as best it could between our bodies. I gave it one more loving stroke before pulling it out from between us, along with a long thick strand of white.

"T—taste… it." Morty suggested, righting his chest on mine with lazy, lulling eyes.

I perched my lips at him in a soft frown, slapping my cum-covered hand over his cheek with little effort and leading my fingers to his lips.

"You taste it." I grumbled, expecting him not to.

Of course he did though, lapping at my fingers and sucking the tips eagerly. I made a face of repulsion, seeing as though he was so skilled with all of this turn-on stuff. Once again, a small part of me wished that I was loaded with him now. If Morty could restrain himself to a decent level… I would let him give me a handjob… maybe… probably not. I would end up freaking out and losing my nerve like always.

There was a long moment of quiet breathing, holding each other as if it should be awkward, but wasn't, but maybe it was now that I thought it should be. I didn't know… all I knew was that I was not prepared for Morty to lurch forward and press his cum-soaked lips to mine. I coughed, pushing against him and spluttering, spitting at the salty tang of his own body fluids.

"Morty!" I punched him in the shoulder hard enough to make him draw back slightly. There was a sudden lightness to his sex-ridden eyes.

"I love you." He said to me, honestly and full of exuberance now that his dick had been satisfied.

"You're not just going to hit it and quit it are you? Now that you've got off like you wanted." I dint meet his eyes as I spoke.

Morty chuckled softly, nuzzling my tender neck and wrapping his arms around me. He kissed my cheek, just before my ear and breathed.

"Never Sweetheart… Never."


	33. Chapter 33

~Falkner~

"Remember your place son." My father said, his dark grey-blue eyes shimmering like our backyard pond on a rainy spring morning. "Don't frighten Pidgeot now, she is nervous enough. Remember what I told you?"

I curled my eight year old hands into tight fists of determination. "This is her first egg, I know." I nodded eagerly.

"And…?"

"And she will be protective… But dad… Mama Bird always lets me into the nesting box, even when there are eggs around!"

"That doesn't matter now son, this is HER egg and she is nervous… come quietly now, it's a week overdue, we can help with the hatching process." My father—a lanky man of which I knew I would someday be—turned and climbed the straight, perfect nailed boards up the luscious oak tree to the nesting box. It was a tree house of feathers and love and fluff and all that good stuff that made my heart sing.

"Mama Bird…" I called in a whisper behind my father. "We're coming!"

I stumbled a bit on the last step, flopping forward onto my face in the shallow wooden treehouse. Nest material went up in a whirl with a storm of white down. A lot of the young pidgeys were molting this time of year, along with the gently tallow, Jake, of whom we had just gotten a few weeks ago. The little black bird had been abused by its previous trainer, and left along in a region unknown to it my father had been called. I wished he had let me come with him to pick up the abandoned pokemon… but that was over and done with. He was letting me do THIS now, and that's what mattered.

The enormous Pidgeot that my father often flew from town to town on was huddled in a corner, her usually wide brown eyes slanted and filled with sorrow.

"Mama…" I mumbled, peering around my father's leg as he crouched low, holding his hand out to the magnificent creature. She had the most beautiful golden feathers, lined with chestnut tips and a lighter belly. She also had vivid, old-lady lipstick color feathers cascading down the back of her head to the start of her tail. She was the most pretty bird I had ever seen, and my favorite among the rest because she loved me so much.

Mama Bird was the only mother I had, and I swear I learned more from her than my father, despite her not being able to speak human. I was brought up to believe that nothing in this world could teach someone how to live like birds. My father called it being ialive/strike and though I didn't really know what he meant… I sure felt alive.

"Pidgeot…" My father stepped forward, ducking under a low wooden beam with few nails poking out. "Wha—what happened?"

"Mama Bird!" I felt tears swelling in my eyes as she bent and pushed a large oval egg with orange speckles on it. It rolled and rumbled softly on the floor, echoing her pain.

"I'm sorry…" My father talked gently to the bird, grasping her face in his large hands and holding her close. "I'm so sorry."

"Dad… what happened? Why doesn't Mama Bird want her egg?"

I was eight years old… misunderstanding the cruel world of death despite it all. I felt tears swelling in my eyes as all the birds in the nesting box flocked together in a small huddle around my father. All the Pidgeotto and hoothoot and my father's favorite Noctowl came and bowed their heads to the trembling bird my father petted softly.

I stood back, biting my lip and holding my tongue because I just didn't know what was going on. I looked at the egg that had been rolled away from the group, I looked at my father… my adopted mother. Everyone was in so much pain…

My father even sniffed and wiped his wet eyes before turning back to me, parting a sea of smaller birds and kneeling.

"Why—why dad?" my lower lip quiver. "Wha—whats wrong with her egg?"

My father took a deep breath before looking me in the eyes. "Listen to me son…"

I listened. I listened real hard as if it was for my life.

"Son some eggs don't hatch…"

"But why?"

He shook his head. "Sometimes baby birds just don't make it that far." He told me, pinching my narrow chin between his thumb and hand, forcing me to look at him. I didn't know what to say though, and I had no words to describe the emotions I was feeling even to myself. I had never seen my father cry before—Dad's don't cry.

But he did now, giving me a tough little shake. "Son, do you know why birds always have their chest out?"

I shook my head, though my father had told me this time and time again. I found myself yearning for the words of comfort that would follow.

"It's because they're proud, Falkner. No other pokemon ever look so proud all the time. They have honor and dignity. That's what makes them different."

I nodded, young tears dripping down my face.

"Sometimes birds die though." He told me under the gaze of many. "Bu they always have their chest out don't they?"

I glanced over at Mama Bird. It was true… even now she had her chest out, looking strong despite the paining emotions in her eyes.

"Y—yes." I nodded to my father.

"I want you to be like that." My father told me in a nearly harsh tone. "Don't ever let death, or anything take away your honor."

I nodded… though the tears still fell.

"Shit!" I jolted up from my bed, shaking under the window's pale glow. My heart was revving with emotion, lingering from the dreams where tears—real tears—had dried on my face.

This was the third night in row I had a dream wake me up. The third night in a row I dreamt of my father and some significant memory we had together. The third night I had gone without seeing Morty but talking to him over the phone until I fell asleep because his voice somehow soothed me every night.

Panting softly, sticky with sweat from the heater I had finally put on—just during the night to save money—I tossed my blankets and sheets aside, curling my legs up underneath me and hiding my face in my palms with a stifled groan.

My father taught me many life lessons based off of birds and the way they lived, but none stood out as much as that one did. It was as if he was foreshadowing his own death in saying that I couldn't let it take away my honor. Somehow in the middle of it all he had known well enough before to tell me… to warm me like any good parent should. And yet I hadn't realized it until now.

I remembered vaguely that warm, moist spring where rain had not fallen but wrapped everything in a layer of humidity. That spring was the most fertile one we ever saw here in Violet city, and all the eggs that our bird's laid had hatched…

Except for Mama Bird's…

She had given up on laying eggs for a very, very long time after that, so long that my father thought she would never have the satisfaction of raising a child of her own. I never understood what he meant by that, since she so obviously put all her love into raising ME… but I guess that didn't fill the void completely.

It wasn't until the steamy summer in which I turned seventeen did Mama Bird show signs of fertility again. This had been triggered due to another Pidgeot, battle scarred and beautiful with forest green eyes. I could remember the bird very clearly, having been an odd Kanto toned bird. It was a temporary donation to our sanctuary just for the summer, while some man from Viridian City needed to challenge the pokemon league, and had one pokemon too many.

That Pidgeot had changed Mama Bird's life, giving her the gift of chance through another egg. Except it had not all turned out perfect, since a week before it was laid my father had passed away, uninformed. He never lived long enough to know that Mama Bird would have her own baby to care for. He never got to see the feisty Pidgey that had been born with his father's spirit but unknown laziness.

It was a long, hard winter to get through with that baby Pidgey, and when Mama Bird grew too frail to care for him I took over, determined not to let it die like her first egg. I hand raised the little bird, feeding it seed by seed until it was strong enough to fly and eat on its own—though he preferred to be handed everything on a silver platter. I may have failed at raising a bird wildly, but I knew that Mama Bird was proud. Her oldest son had kept her youngest alive, and that was worth more than natural instinct.

I turned, putting my hand down to stroke Zephyr's head carefully. He was asleep on his back as usual—playing dead—just as he had done many times that winter when he was born, scaring me to death timelessly. I managed a small, sad smile in the thick warm bedroom air. Zephyr would be a year old this winter, as of January fourteenth—which was still a good month away.

I swung my legs out of bed carefully ignoring the sudden sensation in the back of my head, tingly as if a breath was lingering on my neck. I shivered, trying to adjust to the strange feelings in my house lately, telling myself that it was nothing and heading for my bedroom sliding glass door and grabbing my father's flight jacket on the way. I had gotten used to wearing it this winter, so much that it actually felt like mine now rather than the previous bird trainer's.

"Mama Bird!" I called softly into the dancing snowy air, my breath billowing out before me in a puff of moist steam.

I walked carefully on my bare-freezing toes through the crunchy grass to the enormous oak tree with the now crooked wooden boards on it. It took a moment to find where to put my feet before I could climb up, grunting softly with every pull. In order to fill the desire to do something productive yesterday I had worked out vigorously in the exorcize gym down into town. Every muscle had been beaten down into a tender mush, and then seemed to tighten back up again by last night. I was extremely sore now, however feeling good about myself for it.

I was a gifted runner, having my mother's strong legs and my father's lithe shape, so I had taken to pacing myself on a treadmill for at least an hour, huffing and puffing until I dripped with sweat because it was the only thing I could think of to fill the need for adrenaline.

I hadn't flown in over a week now, and though I kept steering my mind clear of the topic, I knew if I didn't break Renegade soon I would have to wait until one of the Pidgeotto evolved to start training them for flight—and that wasn't a good idea. Pidgeot were among some of the smaller third evolution birds, even though they had very long misleading feathers, their bodies were still short and skinny, meant for skill and accuracy in hunting. It took a special bird—like Pride—to be a flyer.

Pride… my beloved Staraptor… I thought about him every day for numerous hours without end, hoping that maybe somehow he was still alive. He was an independent bird, and it killed me to think so, but there was a chance he had decided that he wanted to be free after the battle at the lake. It could have been the shock of losing that made him run away, or perhaps he just felt that his time to leave the nest had come. I hoped at the very least that was what happened, and that despite his decision he was still ialive/.

"Mama Bird…" I stepped carefully into the treehouse that used to look so huge in comparison to now. When I was eight years old I wasn't anywhere near touching the beams at the top (I was short as a kid), and now I was bumping my head on them.

A soft croon came back to me as my eyes adjusted to the speck of light coming from the heater in the furthest corner of the treehouse. I squinted, careful not to tread on any tail feathers while I approached the mother I grew up with.

I cupped her face in my hands gently as my father had done so long ago—ten, going on eleven years now—telling her I loved her softly. She was such a sweet bird, and it killed me a little inside every time I thought about the average Pidgeot's life span, and how Mama Bird was already pushing it. She was strong for a forty-five year old bird, I must say, but having out-lived my father already I wasn't counting anymore. I brushed her faded pink feathers back, remembering how much I thought they looked like old lady lipstick colors when I was little. She nuzzled me softly.

"I had a dream…" I told her with a sad little sigh. "About my father... you remember how he used to say that birds held their chest out because they were the most honorable pokemon?"

Mama Bird nodded peacefully, unfazed by the memory of her master. She suffered a great loss when he died as well as I did, but I never remembered her dwelling. She hadn't been able to mourn the loss because she had an egg to take care of so quickly—which I knew now was the sole reason why she had an egg. Why, by some miracle that foreign Pidgeot was able to fertilize her that particular summer before we lost my father. It was so that she would have something to keep her flying when she really just wanted to crash and burn.

"Thank you Mama Bird." I said after a long moment, pressing my cheek her hers gently. "I—I just want to thank you for always being there for me."

She sighed happily as I pulled back, reaching up to peck at my bed-head navy mop. I huffed a weak smile, turning my sore body away and whispering goodbye before heading towards the front of the nesting box. Jake met me halfway, cocking his head to the side with a glittering hope in his eyes. I smiled at him, pushing back his sleek oily feathers and nodding.

"I'm fine, Jake." I told him, stepping over the edge of the box and finding my footing carefully. I went down slowly until the grass came underfoot and I was able to walk back towards my patio.

Snow whirled around me in one harsh gust, swatting me in the face and making me flinch. I had to shake my head to dislodge the wet sludge from my ear. I rubbed my eyes; halting and then blinking awkwardly back at the patio door to my bedroom.

The snow whirled, dancing in a twister of snowflakes and crystal-like powder all around. It spun, violently in front of my sliding glass door, gathering in one solid shape before my eyes.

I blinked, unsure of what I was seeing, but feeling my heart race as the wind kicked up in a torrent. I grabbed one of the ropes hanging from the oak tree and held it steadily as if the wind could get suddenly worse and blow my right off my achy feet.

I watched, heart racing from a good ten feet away as a shape appeared before me, chest out just like the birds, and shoulders back and legs straight with dignity. The snow lined the shape, making it impossible not to see under the pale moonlight. I shivered, feeling quite hallucination as the sight took my breath away. At first I thought it was me in the mirror, but then upon spotting a much thicker, stronger jaw on the snowy swirly shape I realized that it wasn't me.

I held my breath unaware and surely facing illusion—maybe I was still dreaming—as the wind slowed, fading past my warm lips and nose until I felt nothing but a flood of heat. My head spun for a second, not comprehending what was before me. That man….

His face was set in a forever scowl of disappointment, and somehow in the back of my mind I knew that I had done something very wrong. That look was of my childhood.

My knees gave away from me for a second, and while I crumbled into the crunchy snow, blinking my eyes shut with a much needed gasp for air, everything subsided. I pushed myself up almost as soon as I fell, teetering sideways slightly and happy to have had the rope in my hand to stabilize me. My head spun once, then stopped.

The figure—my father—was gone. Nothing but my sliding glass door remained, still closed like I left it when I came out here to check on Mama Bird. There was nothing but a gently wafting of snow now. I stood, paralyzed and dazed.

Something called my name then, and I shivered. iFalkner it said/i, a whisper in the wind.

iDon't forget your honor./i


	34. Chapter 34

~Morty~

"Falkner… Sweetheart I promise there are no ghosts in your house."

The words I said on the phone one night when Falkner called, saying he couldn't stand it anymore and that even though he didn't want to believe there could be a ghost, he was running out of options and excuses.

I had lied through my teeth to that boy, knowing damn well that I should have told him the truth because it was his father and my fault that he was recognizing him. Some strange side affect from having a ghost enter his body. It was as if he was growing more and more aware of them around him, turning from a normal type pokemon—no—evolving from a normal type pokemon to a ghost type. Which was a very bad thing.

I had to put my foot down and tell Falkner that there was no ghost in his house, because if the resistance was there he would be less aware, and more skeptical of the possibility of ghosts. He wouldn't give himself the satisfaction of being open minded to their presence. I wouldn't let him do that… I didn't want that life for him.

I suffered ever day because of my awareness to the ghosts around us. The spirits and trauma of those murdered or killed. I couldn't even bring myself to eat meat because Arceus forbid I ever meet the soul of some poor pokemon that was killed for food. Not that being a vegetarian was the worst part, not in the slightest; I just couldn't stand the thought of Falkner seeing the things I saw.

He was so tender, barely stable in this big world that he was living in. He knew barely anything outside of his little birdy bubble in Violet city, and I wasn't being selfish when I said I didn't want him to. The ghost world was a dark place, lined with hate and vengeance, of course with me I was drawn to it… but still.

Falkner had to close the door to the ghost world before it was too late for him to turn back. He would get sucked in and as soon as he believed it they would all start coming to him. I could only imagine how many birds had died at that sanctuary over the years… all those spirits would flock to him. Literally. Flocks of birds. And maybe he would like it… seeing his old companions again… but I knew better than anyone else there was a reason normal people couldn't see ghosts.

Falkner was not strong enough to handle that way of life… and I felt obligated to protect him from it. Even if that meant rejecting an offer I so desperately wanted.

"Hey Morty." Falkner left a message on my phone early on a Thursday morning when I was still asleep. His voice sounded tight but rested, making me hope he got some sleep before the big meeting today. Lance had specifically advised for us ALL—meaning me mostly—to be there because it would be important. Now I wasn't so sure I agreed with that, since Team Rocket hadn't so much as showed their face since the day at the Lake, but I couldn't defy Mr. Kiss my ass.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over this morning… or whenever you get up." Falkner's messaged played in my ear while I lay in the freshly cleaned blankets and pillows on my bed. Everything smelt of laundry detergent and warm scented candles. I stretched lavishly, moaning as my elbows and shoulders popped.

"I know I will see you tonight… but I—I guess I wanted to see you before the meeting so we wouldn't have to feel awkward about hiding from each other while we were there. I—I'm not asking for sex or anything though! Don't twist my words around and think so. But I… I really don't want to walk alone all the way to the Indigo Plateau."

My heart ached as I called him back, sighing with defeat. If I went to his house his father would get all stirred up because he was a homophobic douche and then Falkner would have a better chance of noticing his presence. I closed my eyes as the ringer picked up.

"Hello?" Falkner's quiet voice.

"Hey… Falk I'm sorry, but I've got stuff to do before the meeting later and I won't be able to come over to Violet beforehand."

Silence. Dreadful, pained silence for a split second.

"Oh! Well that's fine… I just… thought because… well… nevermind."

"No, no." I shook my head with an angered sigh. "Listen to me Falkner, I'll wait for you here in Ecruteak, we can walk together from here. I want to be with you! Today is just a crappy day."

"I understand. It's no big deal." Falkner assured, making me feel even more miserable than before.

"You're welcome to come here before." I murmured. "I won't rape you this time I pro—ok I don't promise… but I won't."

He laughed a small, insecure laugh. "No its fine, I'm sure you're busy. I'll just see you later at the edge of Ecruteak, ok?"

I wasn't busy at all and even if I was there was nothing more important than Falkner… which was exactly why I didn't want to go over there. I was trying to protect his well being from the ghost world, and yet I was hurting his feelings in the mean time…

"Ok…" I allowed, rolling over in my bedding. "Love you…"

"See you later." Falkner hung up quickly, making me nearly thrown my phone at the wall across the room. I groaned, gripping my hair and clenching my jaw.

"Dammit…" I hissed to myself. It wasn't like I expected him to say he loved me back—even though he DID!—but I was angry because of my actions. I was the most selfish person I knew and Falkner was the exception… the wall standing in my way.

"I'm sorry…" I muttered to myself, wishing he could hear me. "But it's your damn father's fault!"

~Falkner~

Walking to the pokemon league alone wasn't that bad. Nope not at all. I didn't even care that Morty wouldn't walk with me. Nope… not one… single…bit.

Sluggish and unnerved in my tennishoes—not my usual boots—I sloshed through the thick mush that was previous snowfall. All of Johto was suffering from the snow now, with the exception of Olivine and Ciandwood I assumed, and I was having none of it. The cold made me feel like death, and I was the kind of person that couldn't warm up once I go cold. I was suffering, my collar bone exposed in the small space between the flight jacket and the hoodie I wore underneath it. I couldn't zip the flight jacket though, because a very stubborn and irritated pidgey had squirmed himself in the way. And to make things worse his tiny talons kept scratching my frozen nipples.

I was annoyed to begin with, not even halfway to Ecruteak where Morty said he would be waiting for me, and thinking about turning around and going home. It wasn't worth the pain in walking… honestly how did the other gym leaders do it? They may take short train rides or make it two day trip, but still. Even with my now routine of running on the treadmill for an hour a day, I was still dreading this. Treadmill running was different than sloshing through muddy slush anyways.

"Ow Zephyr!" I flinched. "Stop squirming or I'm putting you in your pokeball!"

He squealed angrily, jabbing me in the neck over and over again until I shoved him up out of my shirt and watched him fall in the snow with a thump. A small spot of blood trickled down my chest as I kicked slush at him.

"You pain in the butt!"

He retorted with a loud squawking, mouth parted to reveal a tiny pink tongue while his narrows eyes looked like moons surrounded by his sassy black facial markings.

He hobbled along behind me, refusing to lift his fat body up in the air and actually fly. He was the only bird I knew of that refused to fly if he didn't have to, and sometimes I really hated that about him. He pecked at my shoe-laces, trying his hardest to untie the neat bows so that I would have to stop. I knew as soon as I did he would climb up to my shoulder and eventually swoon me into letting him back into my shirt.

"Stop it." I ordered. "I'm not in the mood."

He gave me a look that read "Go get laid, asshole".

"Why don't you just fly?" I growled under my breath, secretly wishing that maybe if Zephyr could fly more he would grow into a pidgeotto, and then after a while a large Pidgeot. I knew it was wrong of me to wish my pokemon would evolve for my own greediness… but if Zephyr evolved then we could fly together.

The pidgey puffed up his feathers and squatted in a dry patch of dead grass, shoveling his face into his chest as if he was going to sleep.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on!"

He remained as a dramatic butter ball of feathers, unmoving and not looking at me as I threatened to leave him behind. Of course I never would, but I didn't want to have to restrain him in pokeball either. He'd had quite enough of that lately.

"Get your feathered ass over here!" I ordered, again, only this time it sounded more like begging.

"COMING IN HOT!"

My eyes reverted, whirling me around in the direction of the warm, husky voice that called out to me. Before I had time to blink sopping wet ice showered over me, clotting in my hair and stinging my eyes as I cowered, grunting because a small pebble had thumped me in the forehead.

"Hey!" I shook my head, wiping my face and trying to salvage was what left of my dry clothes. I trembled.

"Sorry Falkner!" a grin as wide as the region of Johto stretched across a sudden tan and brilliant boys face. It was Gold, the ace trainer, the "hero" of the region at the moment. I had been reading about him in a magazine the other day in fact. They said he had beaten Pryce flawlessly, but that was no wonder since he had one of the most powerful fire pokemon on his team.

"We're not so good at landing." Gold pushed a pair of black and yellow goggles off his eyes, giving them a good hot breath of air before wiping them on his dry clothes. I watched as he shuffled off a very unfazed and bright eyed Togekiss.

Jealousy sparked in my heart for a moment, wishing to death that Pride was here with me and that we could fly together. Unlike Zephyr, who so rudely managed to untie BOTH my shoes now that I was distracted.

"Are you on your way to the meeting?" Gold asked, pushing his dark fringe out of his face. "Want a ride?"

My heart sky rocketed as he gestured towards the lovely, pure white pokemon. It was shorter than any warrior bird I had ever raised, but had very thick and strong wings, the kind of wings that could life like pure muscle but still fly. My knowledge on this particular bird didn't go very far, since in its first few stages of evolution it wasn't even a bird at all, and some of its anatomy contradicted the type of birds me and my father grew up raising.

That didn't mean I wasn't thrilled though. My flushed-from-the-cold face lit up and I felt a sudden heat rise in my heart. I knelt beside the pokemon, holding my hands out to it and discovering that in its eyes was a stunning pale silvery glint. I was taken aback by just how beautiful it was, and bit my lip in excitement.

Birds made me giddy… what else can I say?

"Hey there." I murmured to the bird as Zephyr attacked my thigh, demanding attention. I ignored him of course, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of the togekiss's firm face. The feathers were short and compact all along its body, unlike normal birds that had luscious, poofy feathers.

"She likes you." Gold commented, brushing back the thick patches of red and blue feathers on the pokemon's head. She made a soft rumbling purr of a noise in response, completely unaware of Zephyr's jealousy and trauma. "We should fly just fine together."

"But her wingspan can't be long enough to support us both." I sighed, ruffling the feathers on the back of her neck until she shook herself out in delight.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Gold snorted. "She flies like a jet plane anyways. Her wings don't play much part."

I nuzzled my face into the silky, thick fathers, sniffing—yes sniffing—deeply at the soft smell. She was clean and neat, a perfect lady among the other scourges around here—Zephyr.

"What the hell is his problem?" Gold asked after a moment, nudging Zephyr with the tip of his boot.

The pidgey proceeded to shit on his foot, ignoring my command to stop and focusing on mentally killing Gold for bringing another bird around.

"He always has a problem." I swatted the pidgey in the head before reaching for my pokeball. I sighed, clicking the button open and shaking my head as a beam of red light sucked him right up, silencing he squeaks of rage.

Gold tried to rub his boot off in a pile of snow, a disgusted look on his face.

"Sorry… he doesn't behave at all."

"Don't worry about it. Like I've never been shit on before…" Gold mumbled, still focused on removing the bile.

"So… Gold, why the offer? I mean, where have been?" I asked, still giving Togekiss the full attention. She was rubbing all around me now, hot with the way I rubbed under her wings. Her round eyes shone with glee.

"Been around… but Lance called me and said that he thought it would be a good idea for Silver and I to come to this meeting… I swear that guy has a thing for Silver though… it's pissing me off."

"So why are you going?" I asked mildly, surprised by how unashamed Gold was of his obvious like for the foxy redhead—who I had to admit WAS pretty attractive. I couldn't imagine myself being so confident when I spoke of Morty, let alone the awkward relationship we had together.

"Well if Silver is going then there is no way in hell I'm missing it!" His honey gold eyes narrowed to slits of suspicious. "I won't let that Lance guy so much as look at Silver without my say-so."

I huffed an awkward laugh, remembering how at first impression I thought it was Silver who reminded me of Morty with his solemn attitude. But now I could see that Gold was like Morty in Silver lining. The kid—actually he may be eighteen already—had an air of territorial around him that screamed "Silver is MINE". Morty tended to do the same thing with me every time I spoke of anyone else.

"Does Silver know you're like this?" I wondered with a slightly sarcastic smile. "He doesn't seem like the type to take it very well."

"Who cares." Gold snorted. "I like him feisty anyways."

I let it go at that point, not asking anymore questions concerning his make-believe lover as we set up with Togekiss. It took a lot of persuading for Gold to get me on the bird. Not because I didn't want to ride her—I would kill to fly again—but because she was so much smaller than what I was used to, and I didn't want to harm her with too much weight.

In the end she was fine, truly flying more like a plane than a bird, like Gold had said. She barely flapped her wings, more so rolling them to adjust to pockets of air that lifted us higher. She wasn't the fasted bird, but I was impressed by the pure strength. She didn't even seem to break a sweat as we flew all the way to the Indigo Plateau.

It felt so utterly GOOD to be flying again, in the most frivolous, lusty kind of way I could describe it. Flying made me feel high, like the saying "flying high". I was lost in a world of wind tunnels and careful motions that had us traveling. The only thing I assumed that could make this better was if Gold was behind me and I was flying in front, rather than wrapping my arms around his middle to keep from falling off. He yelled at me for being gay at one point, but laughed and said he liked it at another, so I was confused.

Gold was a weird, but fun guy. I didn't mind his company or his addiction to a particular sexy redhead, even when he went on again about how Silver was his rival, and that he would do anything to beat Gold one day. I found that quite amusing since it seemed Silver worked a lot harder than Gold did and yet hadn't half the glory. I sort of envied the honey eyed boy in a way. He was so confident with himself and the way he spoke.

It wasn't until we were nearing the massive pokemon league building did I realize that I had totally ditched Morty.

"Shit…" I cursed under my breath. How in the world would I explain this to the demanding and powerful ghost trainer?

iSorry Morty, I kind of forgot all about you to fly with some sex oozing teen and his beautiful Togekiss./i

That would most certainly NOT go over well… Morty would think I was cheating on him. That is… if we were really even a couple. I shivered at the thought. Morty said he loved me but I still wasn't completely convinced. He just seemed way too likely to be the kind of guy to have sex with multiple people and tell them all exactly what they wanted to hear.

"Huh?" Gold shook his clothes out as we landed, stepping carefully away from Togekiss.

"Seriously, I'm going to teach you how to land." I wiped my brow dramatically, rolling my eyes and reaching out to stroke the pokemon once again. "That's so rough on her feet when you don't slow down enough."

Gold gave me an awkward smile that said he didn't mind my critique, though I could tell he really was just distracted by the emptiness going on around us. We were terribly early now, since I had planned on walking all that way and being on time.

"Hey Falkner." Gold seemed to give up searching for the redhead after a few moments of me coddling his bird. I showered her sweet nature in so much love it actually hurt. She reminded me of Mama Bird when she was younger, stunning and beautiful with a loving heart.

"Hmm?" I asked as he came over to me. "We have some time, why don't we have a one on one battle? Togekiss against one of your birds."

My heart sank, considering that Pride was my ultimate fighter and he was gone…

"I—I don't have any birds to fight with at the moment." I said honestly. Jake could have been a worthy opponent for Togekiss, but I left him "in charge" of the flock while I was gone, hoping it would bestow some kind of leadership inside him. I was still in a desperate pursuit of finding a leader for our flock, hoping every day that things didn't fall apart. Without a leader the birds may be tempted to leave on their own, and that would simply break my heart.

"Oh…." Gold looked away awkwardly, remembering that I had lost a very strong bird battling the Gyrados.

"Sorry." I shrugged. "But… we can practice landing?"

"You mean I can practice?" He cocked an eyebrow up at me.

"Well yeah, but someone's got to show you how to do it."

He perched his lips, thinking precisely for a moment before smiling slightly. "It would be nice to be better at flying than Silver…"

I rolled my eyes, glad me and Morty didn't have that kind of competition. It would make being together virtually impossible because he ALWAYS one, and that meant I always had to be submissive.

"Alright sure." Gold allowed, having convinced himself.


	35. Chapter 35

~Morty~

That bitch stood me up.

I blew through the doors like TNT, an hour late to the meeting and knocking a large and probably very expensive painting off the wall. The ladies at the front desk all jumped in unison, having been surrounded by Will, an elite four member with little or no credit to his name. He cast me a worried and annoyed glance, his stupid mask crooking to the side of his face when his nose scrunched up.

I knew the meeting this month was being held in a proper room because Lance had said himself that it was important. Unlike our previous get-togethers outside by the picnic tables, or the time we were in the training gym. I snarled to myself, unsure of what to think. Falkner hadn't answered his phone when I called, and he wasn't home when I walked all the way there because I have a tendency to be pushy. I thought maybe at first he had stayed home because he was butt-hurt over me not coming over, but upon entering his house—Gengar picked the lock—I found that he was nowhere to be seen. His father was in a rage, screaming at me and cursing my every molecule to hell, but I didn't care.

Because this time his son had stood me up.

"You're late." The piercing yellowy eyes of Mr. Kiss my ass hit me hard as I slammed open the meeting room door, scanning with ignorance, viewing every traumatized pair of eyes until they settled on a very bright aqua set. I grit my teeth in a low snarl, curling back my lip at him as he shrank back, afraid of my anger.

"Shut the hell up, I was kept waiting." I spoke to Lance while looking at Falkner.

"Excuse me?"

"Fuck off Lance."

The dragon master had fire in his eyes as he ordered me to take a seat, hissing in rage at the only chair that was open—the one beside him. I pulled it out, clearing the eyes with a deadly glare. Clair was amused, Jasmine was shivering between Whitney and Chuck as if she was cold, and Silver stood in the back next to Pryce, arms folded tightly, his steel eyes piercing the back of Gold's head.

Gold looked quite blatant if I might add, sitting next to Falkner with his heels up on the table as if he owned the place, sipping a can of coke even though it was far too cold for those summer beverages. I glared at him as Falkner looked down, biting his lip and meeting brief eye contact with the ace trainer. The two seemed to share the same thought, and that alone pissed me off. With a cold hearted scowl I took out my phone and speed-dialed Falkner.

A throaty vibrating sounded from across the table.

"Seriously?" Lance, sitting in the largest chair at the head of the table asked in annoyance. "This is fucking serious! Falkner!"

"I—Sorry… I'll turn it off…" The bird trainer huffed, clicking the end button on his phone and then holding the side down till it went to a black screen.

This pissed me off even more. It meant that Falkner had his phone on him and he had been deliberately ignoring my calls from before. I dared him to come near with me that thing in hand… I shove it up his ass so fast… set to vibrate and call him over and over again until—

"Erhem! Morty." Lance smacked the table with his large fist, bringing me out of my angry, sex-ridden rape daydream. I swallowed, knowing that rape was wrong and that any sensible person would just ask their lover why they stood them up, and wait to get angry when they had a real reason.

"You come late and then you don't even pay attention?" The champion was walking on thin ice today it seemed. He must have to get laid. "This is so serious it could involve you losing your gym."

"Fuck." I rolled my eyes. "Go ahead, Arceus what are you a Nazi?"

"Morty you're so out of line." Bugsy, the little runt snorted because things like that struck a nerve in him. I only muffled a cough.

Clair whooped with laughter for no reason, making me believe she was on drugs and or her thong was too high up her ass.

"MAY I CONTINUE?" Lance ordered.

Silence was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Alright…. All of you hooligans. This…. This is important. I can't stress that enough." He paused, thoroughly disgusted with t the words about to come out of his mouth. "Kanto and Johto… the citizens did a vote, now this vote doesn't mean anything YET, but they voted and decided that since the elite four is the same for both regions, they want to make all gym badges in Kanto and Johto equals… meaning that not one region has a set of eight anymore, but the two will be combined with a total of sixteen, AND trainers will not have to stick to their home region to get these badges."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to multitask my mind on Falkner and what Lance was saying. I didn't truly understand what was the problem with merging gym leaders, since that would mean that trainers from Kanto would travel to see the sights in Johto. That meant more battling for me since Ecruteak was a memorial town, especially now with the burned tower (that was previously the brass tower).

"What's so important about that?" Whitney asked quietly, eyes for Jasmine and full of worry. The steel trainer looked very… tarnished today. Quite warn out, which made me wonder if Falkner had let her down in some way. I hoped he had.

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. "The thing is… one of Kanto's leaders is retiring… so Kanto thinks it's only fair that…" he shook his head. "That one of ours does too."

Now that had my attention. Falkner leaving me was all but forgotten as we stiffened in fright. The hearts all stopped in unison, peering through black windows into a world of light. Everyone was scrambling in turmoil, thinking about losing their gym, their job, their passion, love heart soul, blood sweat and fucking tears.

"What's it matter that we make it even if we are all one?" Falkner spoke up, gripping the table edge tightly. "That's not right!"

"I know." Lance sighed. "But… nothing is official yet… just know that, gym inspections will be happening soon and the results may determine your place in the end."

"No!" Falkner insisted. "We can't let this happen!"

The navy haired bird trainer was frightened beyond repair, looking with his wide aqua eyes at everyone around him. He was normally a quiet candidate to our meetings, but now, riled up and worried he appeared to be facing turmoil.

"It's not up to us." Lance shrugged. "It's up to the people of Kanto and Johto combined… if they all vote to merge the gyms then we have no choice but to limit ourselves to sixteen leaders… having seventeen would cause too much drama."

Falkner looked to be in hysterics, the fear in his eyes displayed so impatiently, as he was one to overreact. I decided to speak up.

"And just how will we decide who gets fucked over?" I looked up at Lance, hating his shallow arrogance. He cared about us to an extent, but let's face it, there was nothing threatening his position. Clair also looked quite confident, being that she was the most well-known gym leader, and made the most money in previous years. I hadn't been far behind her, proving that it was a matter of city that brought it crowds of trainers, not skill. If it was determined on skill alone I knew that Pryce would be making more money and getting more funding a year than I did. The old ice trainer was quite the fighter, and the look in his eyes as he sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap proved it.

None of us wanted to suggest that Pryce retire his position as gym leader because of his age, but I would bet that more than half of us were thinking it.

"The amount of trainers you bring it." Lance said. "The quality of your gym, the money… everything."

"And who will decide in the end?" I challenged.

"Well… me and the other elite four members obviously."

I looked away with a small frown. I had no serious attachment to my gym like Falkner did, and I was wealthy enough to live a lifetime without working, but that didn't mean I wanted to lose it. The fact that my gym was just a shell, a home for ghosts—and you couldn't see them—put me at a downfall. Unlike Falkner, who put his whole life into his gym, working day and night for the birds that were his only family… surely he would be safe from being evicted because of that.

Only… Falkner didn't look safe at all. He was frantic, looking at Gold, looking briefly at me—reminding me that I was still pissed at him—looking at Lance and Jasmine and all the other leaders for an unspoken answer.

"Is there any hope in this NOT happening at all?" Chuck, who had been unusually solemn, asked. He looked a little uneasy, since his gym was off the much rockier shore of Cianwood, and his main competition would be Jasmine—his fake niece—who had the luxury of being on white sand in warm sunshine year around. I mentally checked her off of the list in my head.

Clair was safe, Pryce was safe, and Jasmine was safe, meaning that Bugsy, Chuck, Whitney, Falkner, and I would be at the bottom of the barrel. Of course if Lance kept his word about judging fairly on money, publicity, and quality, then I should be safe as well. I had the second most popular gym according to the regions votes last year, but I wasn't exactly convinced.

None of these people except Falkner liked me here, especially Lance, and that put a bad taste in my mouth from the start. Lance had the power here, he would be the unfair swing vote to get me expelled for more personal reasons. I grit my teeth, refusing—my stubborn pride in the way—to be a kiss ass like he wanted. Mr. Kiss my ass would have to learn to live without his ass being kissed. I wouldn't grovel over him just to keep my gym.

But Falkner… would I grovel over him to keep Falkner's gym? The bird trainer was both the youngest, newest, most inexperienced, and the poorest out of us all—except maybe for Bugsy. He had already confided in me about taking a loan out of the bank to pay for expenses when his heater broke a week ago. I offered to buy him a whole new one, but he was too proud of course. He was overworked, without extra money to pay for helpers like the old ladies who kept my candles lit and my battles interesting. Falkner was on his own in this big bad world, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was frightened.

I let the anger inside me slip away for a moment, forgetting that Falkner stood me up and feeling completely sorry for him. The desire to rape him faded into the wanting to hold him, and I fidgeted nervously. This feeling still struck me every once in a while, deciphering itself from lust so obviously. I LOVED Falkner, I knew I did, it was just normally buried beneath lust.

"Not so be rude… but why are WE here?" Silver interrupted everyone's painful contemplating thoughts.

"Oh!" Clair jumped up, punching Lance out of the way, and taking the stand. "The GOOD news."

We all slumped, as if the good news could really cheer us up at the moment…

"Us leaders are inviting you two top trainers to the annual winter-club party." Clair waggled her eyebrows at us all.

"Annual winter-club party? Clair this is the first time we've ever done this." Lance grumbled, having sat to let her stand above us all.

"Well it will be annual soon. You guys know Christmas is like… two weeks from now right? We are celebrating early with booze and schmoozing and clubbing all night long."

"When?" Chuck asked, excited at the sound of alcohol. Jasmine shuddered next to him.

"We're invited?" Gold smirked. "Do I really look eighteen?"

"Shh." Silver swatted him over the head. "Looks don't matter unless you act like you're eighteen."

"You guys are more powerful than any other trainers right now, and think of it as a thank you helping at the Lake." Lance said. "I won't tell if you won't."

Gold beamed with delight, mischievous as a child with his hand caught in a cookie jar. It was a look I could appreciate on the honey eyed boy. Not to mention he was oozing sex appeal and would have one hell of a night at the bar with the rest of us (minus Pryce because he was too old for anything fun anymore. His words, not mine.).

"When is it?" Whitney perked up, also being a fan of the tipsy side of life. That was one thing all the gym leaders seemed to have in common at some point; we all loved to drink, and though no one said it out loud, we all loved sex as well.

Expect for Falkner of course, the kid was too proud and determined for such actions—yet. I was suddenly determined.

"This Friday night." Clair clapped her hands together. "It's a private party though, no pokemon allowed… and the leaders from Kanto will be joining us as well as the elite four members."

"Fucking yes!" Bugsy curled his hand into a winning fist. "Janine will be mine."

Chuck snorted a laugh at his friend. "Janine's dad is a member of the elite four, or did you forget?"

Bugsy visibly slumped. "Bu—but…"

"There's always Erika." Chuck patted his much smaller fuck buddy/friend on the back.

Bugsy made a face as if to disapprove.

"Sabrina—

"Enough about fucking the other gym leaders!" Lance shook his head as if he was a school teacher scolding his misbehaving and perverted children. That was no matter though; I wasn't interested in fucking any Kanto leaders… just a particular bird trainer who held no noticeable emotion towards this party Friday night.

"Seriously…" Jasmine echoed him in a whisper. Had she not been directly across from me I wouldn't have heard it. Her pale chestnut eyes looked… darker, less of a threat to my man today. I so desperately wanted to know what had broken her spirit (so I could thank it). One less obstruction standing in my way to Falkner.

"If we are quite done…" Pryce, who had been silent this whole time—obviously knowing before the rest of us what was happening—excused himself quietly. "I must get back to my gym now."

"This is going to be so sexy." Gold cheered to himself. "I gotta go home and get my leather pants…"

Silver blinked at his rival, blushing ever so slightly. It was his and my own secret now… I knew Silver was in love with Gold, I had asked him and he told me honestly that day back at the lake. Of course I would have known anyways, seeing as though they fueled each other with hate and desire all at once. I truly believed that the ones you loved most were the ones that drove you absolutely batshit crazy.

Falkner for example…

"Goodbye Pryce." Lance said respectively as Clair moved in to hug the elderly leader. Those two were closest to him, and often looked to him for advice, which was one of the few smart things they did. Pryce was a very powerful man, with more stories to tell and wisdom to share than he had time for. I always wondered what it would be like to confide in him… but of course I would never actually do it.

"Are we done?" Jasmine asked softly when the ice trainer left.

"Unless you guys want to sit around and chat?" Lance offered.

We all got up immediately, scrambling to get away from one another since it appeared no connection would lead to another without hate getting in the way.

"Glad to see we're all one big happy family." The champion rolled his eyes.

Falkner slunk by him, out the meeting room doors and then speed walking down the hallway with me hot on his trail. I refused to let him leave without an answer. Gold was walking quietly with Silver—who I happened to notice was a good inch or so taller than the stocky teen. It was kind of odd… how different their body shapes were. Silver would be a screamer in bed, Gold would be causing the screaming in bed. I could tell that just by looking at them.

"Falkner." I hissed as the bird trainer came to a stop at the Indigo Plateau doors. Gold and Silver had turned the other way to head to the courtyard, and the other gym leaders were taking their sweet ass time.

"Morty… I—I'm sorry." He held his hands up in defense as I turned him towards me and grabbed his sides tightly.

"I just… I got distracted before… Gold showed up and offered me a ride on his Togekiss…"

"I'll kill him."

"What?!" Falkner blinked rapidly. "Wh—why?!"

"Because I'm a jealous bastard."

"B—but it had nothing to do with Gold. I was just excited over the bird…" he blushed the truth, bleeding warm colors as his love for birds was always above anything else. I shook my head, knowing that was a battle I would never win. Falkner would always choose birds over anyone else.

I sighed dramatically.

The navy haired boy peeked around my shoulder, scanning the vacant lobby for a moment before moving his arms and placing them on my chest gently. "I'm sorry…" He whispered again, stretching up and planting a gentle peck on my cheek. "We can still walk back together…"

I tilted his head back and leant in to him, kissing harshly for a second before softening and brushing his hair back behind his ear. The scab had vanished within the last week or so, but the little V slit was still there.

"Oh no." I pulled away from him, kissing the small dip at the center of his collar bone. "You owe me, you're sleeping over tonight."

"I—I have stuff I need to do though."

"Too bad." I rested my chin on his shoulder. "It will have to wa—

A sharp gasp cut me off.

"Wha-? What the fuck?"

Falkner turned a ghostly pale, pushing away from me as Clair stared at us with her hand on her hip and her mouth open in a small O shape. "You two are together?" she smirked.

I looked at Falkner, eyes narrowed as he spluttered, bright red for an answer that wasn't there. Clair looked to be on the verge of laughter and repulsion as she stepped forward towards us, glancing around to make sure no one else had come by yet.

"Is anal sex good?" She asked, cocking her eyebrow up. "I've always wanted to try it… but guys don't ever want it unless their gay."

"We're not-!

"I wouldn't know." I cut Falkner off. "I've always been on top."

Falkner gaped like a magikarp, horrified at what I was implying. I smiled wickedly. Payback for ditching me Sweetheart. Payback.

"Clair we're not together." Falkner stepped forward, leaning into her and whispering. "You can't tell anyone."

She laughed, holding both her hands up. "Secret safe with me, lover boys. But if you ever want to repay me, I'd love some dick pics."

"Not happening." I rolled my eyes, the thought of Clair seeing my spectacular and perfect body… i pffft/i she couldn't handle it.

Clair clicked her tongue suggestively at us, turning and walking past the doors as the rest of the gym leaders started to come through the hall.

Falkner sulked mildly as we hurried out the large front doors and headed for the route that would take us home. He waited until we were out of sight before elbowing me.

"Asshole."

I snickered. "Keep acting like that Sweetheart, you're getting raped tonight."

"Fuck you." He was obviously not in the mood.

"Aw come on now." I reached out and grabbed his hand. It was very dark out now, pitch black after the short but significant meeting. Stars blinked at us from above the barren tree branches. He tried to pull away at first, but gave in when he thought twice. I noticed he trembled softly as his lips billowed white puffs of hot breath.

"Are you cold?" I asked him, pulling my empty arm up to my neck.

He shrugged.

"Here." I slipped my scarf off and slowed us to a stop, stepping before him and flipping the thing around his head. I wrapped it around twice before tucking one side in and taking his hand again.

"I—it smells like you." Falkner murmured, taking a soft sniff at the purple material. I nodded in agreement, sneering.

"And when you give it back it will smell like you."


	36. Chapter 36

~Falkner~

So maybe I misjudged Morty a little bit. He wasn't as angry as he was frustrated and—dare I say—horny. Something inside me, a small nonchalant voice, said that his anger was fueled by his dick, which was fueled by me, which meant I was screwed. Not literally, but… you get the point.

"Sweetheart." Morty pressed his forehead against mine after moments of sucking each other's faces off. "What the hell?"

I couldn't give him what he wanted tonight though; I was too worried about what Lance had said back at the league meeting. One of us could lose our gym…

My father was the previous gym leader of Violet city, and he was a man of many things, pride and honor being the most important. He would never let something happen to his gym and I knew that if I did he would never forgive me—dead or not. That gym was our home; my father built it from the ground up with the help of his love for birds. I didn't know any other way of life… i didn't know how to be any more independent than I was at the moment.

I pushed my face into Morty's chest, curling forward and playing with the ripped, burned ends of his scarf that he put around my neck. He pulled me in tight with a sigh, leaning into the leather couch pillows and pulling me with him. We sat together quietly.

"You're not cheating on me are you?" Morty asked.

"What? No… I—I mean… who said we're even together?" that wasn't the topic I had on my mind, but I figured I deserved an answer at least.

"Me obviously." He rubbed my hip strongly, his narrowed lavender eyes piercing me for objection.

I blinked at him, watching the way his pitch black pupils seemed to trap emotion and ring I of life. "Morty… I'm scared."

"Of what?" He murmured quietly to me. "I'll chase it away."

"Everything…" I had to look away now, hating myself for confiding in Morty like this. My father would have told me to suck it up and use actions to cope rather than words. "I—I can't even sleep at night in my own home. I have nightmares… or not really bad dreams, but I have memories of my childhood. Its making me exhausted. And that's not even all of it. I—I miss Pride, he's nowhere to be seen. I don't have transportation now and things at the gym are falling apart. And now… this thing with Kanto. What am I going to do if I lose my gym?"

Morty pulled me in closer, holding me tightly and nuzzling my neck gently. "Shit happens, Falkner. But I promise you won't lose your gym…"

"You don't know that."

"You're so stubborn." He told me, pulling back and looking me in the eyes. "I'll help you as much as I can… And maybe I can find you a new bird? Come on… now don't cry… Sweetheart."

I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut and wiping away the tears. This was completely different than the way I was brought up. My father would have smacked me for daring to cry in a situation like this. He would have told me to suck it up, and I would have. That's what I wanted to do now, but Morty made it all too easy to be comforted.

I muffled my tears into his chest quietly, knowing that any good gym leader would be home with their pokemon right now. If we were going to survive this we would have to work together and be together… and yet Morty's arms were just so strong and reassuring.

"The off season is always hard… this is the first winter you have been alone running the gym right?"

I shook my head. "My father died in the summer last year…"

"But you weren't managing a gym." He brushed my hair back. "It's going to be fine… alright?"

I wasn't convinced but nodded anyways. There may be a serious lack of trust for Morty when it came to things like… our physical relationship, but at times like this I knew I could believe in him to be there for me. And it felt so good to know someone was there…

"Let's talk about something else." He suggested, pointing across the room to where Litwick was blowing an ember across the granite countertop in Morty's kitchen. His living area was completely open, one huge flat with no dividing walls except for a long hallway leading to the spare room, a bathroom, and his master bedroom.

"I'm thinking about donating that little blob over there to an orphanage for Christmas…" Morty murmured. "I… I grew up in an orphanage and I know it was always harder for me when there wasn't pokemon around. Specifically ghost types."

I sniffed. "That's… so kind of you."

"Are you surprised?" He smirked down at me. "Besides… I'm not really training it."

"You have a soft spot." I cuddled into him, laughing sadly. "Maybe that's why you like me? Because I became an orphan?"

"Falkner, I like you because you are stubborn and frustrating and adorable. Not because you were an orphan for a very short period of time."

I flushed a soft shade of pink as he played with the feathery ends of my hair.

"I love you…" He told me. "Do you believe that?"

For a long time now I had been thinking that Morty only thought he loved me, and that once we had sex he wouldn't anymore. At first my reluctance was because I didn't want to be used as a sex toy, but now I realized that it was because I didn't want to lose Morty.

"Falkner you're killing me here."

I sighed. "Alright yes… I believe you…"

"Look at me."

I stared up into those hazy violet eyes, blinking softly the remaining moisture from my eyes as the fiery glow from the candles blinked out. Litwick blowing them out now to set the mood in low light. Morty kissed my forehead gently—softer than he ever had before.

"I love you." He murmured. "I know I'm an asshole most of the time… But that doesn't change anything."

I sniffed, feeling utterly safe in his arms, shivering as he trailed his nose up my jaw.

"Morty…"

"Mmmn?"

"I—I love you too."

My mistake apparently. He pulled back, shifting upright and smiling deviously at me as if he was receiving a medal. I was sheepish, not meeting his eyes and unprepared for his sudden attack. He grabbed me, wrapping his arms and legs in a death grip so tight I had the wind knocked out of me.

"You can't take it back this time." He pecked me on the lips. "I won't let you."

I sighed. "I didn't plan to…"

"I love you Sweetheart."

"Yeah I know… I love you too."


	37. Chapter 37

~Falkner~

I stared at ground in despair for a long moment, damning myself for ever agreeing to go to the "winter club" party that Clair was so determined to set up. Apparently she wanted a good impression for the Kanto leaders, and she said that was impossible if we weren't all there. I argued with saying Pryce wasn't going, but she just laughed and slapped me in the back of the head.

Clair and I had lunch today at a sandwich shop in Blackthorn. We froze our asses off and she laughed at me again when I told her I was a vegetarian. Luckily the favor was returned when her heels slipped on ice and I had my chance to laugh. Clair nearly broke her ass, and it was just too damn funny to avoid. She slapped me hard, but the amusement was deep in her eyes by the time we had made it through the ice cave. She was going to visit Pryce, and I was going to stop at Morty's on the way home—a surprise visit even though I knew he would be asleep.

For some odd reason Morty had been avoiding seeing me for the last few days, and it had started to leave a beedrill sting on my heart. I racked my brain for a reason, coming up with nothing except the fact that he had tried to have sex with me again the night I told him I loved him, and then I rejected him again. Though I refused to let that be my fault. Morty should respect me enough to know that sex would come when I was ready.

It wasn't until today that I figured it out though; Morty wasn't avoiding ME, he was avoiding my house. Every time I talked to him he would suggest coming over, and while I thought he was just being an asshole that wanted sex, I realized he truly just didn't want to spend time together in my home.

"I don't want to believe it's because my house is so… low class in comparison to his… but what else could it be?"

Clair folded her arms, eyeing Zephyr carefully. The little pidgey had been on her shoulder all day, pecking her cheek softly—birdy kisses—and performing his horrible out-of-step mating dance when she gave him any ounce of attention. He was completely smitten over the dragon tamer—for what reason I had no clue, but it had me face-palming, mystified. Zephyr thought he was human, that was all there was to it. Hell, he even moter-boated Clair at one point, which resulted in her howling in laughter because apparently girl's boobs are ticklish to things like feathers.

"I doubt it's got to do with the house…" Clair murmured. "But maybe it's got something to do with…well Morty is a weird ass. For all we know he might not like your toilets water pressure."

I scowled slightly as Zephyr whistles in her ear, trying to serenade her.

"What the fuck is up with your bird Falkner?" Clair flinched away from his tiny pink tongue being stuck in her ear.

"He wants to mate with you." I grumbled.

"Eeew what the fuck bird!" he turned her head to glare at the pidgey. Zephyr laid his cutest gaze on her, tilting his head to the side and pecking the tip of her sharp pointed nose. "Does he even have a penis?"

"What?!" I jolted in shock, thinking that if Clair was desperate enough she would have sex with my bird. I curled my lip in disgust.

"Arceul Falkner!" Clair shook her head. "I didn't mean I wanted beastiality! I was just curious."

"Of course birds have… sexual organs." There was nothing in me that wanted to relate the word "penis" to my birds. My father taught me all about breeding, long before I ever knew that I had a penis myself. Well… obviously I knew it was there, but it wasn't like I knew its purpose. Not to mention I had bred plenty of birds myself, and there really wasn't much to it other than finding compatible partners. Some birds picked mates for life, and even if one or the other dies they still held onto their loyalty to them. Some birds were the opposite, and they would mate just to lay eggs.

Clair somehow found this amusing, and laughed heartily, flicking Zephyr's tail feathers and making him hiss angrily. He hated being teased, and he hated thinking that people were making fun of him, but this time he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"You're birds a pimp." Clair commented. "And he has good taste for ladies if I must say so myself."

"I'm scared for his health now. Clair you're flirting back with him."

She shrugged. "Sorry bird, maybe if you were a big scary dragon I would like you."

"Now you're just being mean!"

Zephyr, heartbroken and angry, loped over to the space between us and launched himself onto my shoulder. He shrank within his feathers, taking his frustrations out on me and stabbing my neck with his beak repeatedly.

"Stop!" I ordered, flinching. Zephyr had a tendency to take his anger out on me whenever he could. It was like I was his personal punching bag.

Clair laughed. "That's what you get for being ifriends/i with your pokemon. Falky baby, you gotta be their master."

I shook my head. My father raised me to trust birds completely, and that's how I intended to live myself. I did not master birds, I trained birds to be the best they could be with their own willing. That's why Zephyr was still a fat lard of feathers. Because if that's how he wanted to live his life… I would let him.

We approached Pryce's gym slowly, thanking each other for the lunch get together, and exchanging threats once again. I told Clair I would tell the world she liked beastiality if she told the world that me and Morty were together. Then she told me that if I didn't show up to her part she would gut me with a spoon. I hugged her after that, rolling my eyes when she messed my hair—pleased to find herself three inches taller than me in her heels. Zephyr tried for a goodbye kiss and was smacked into depression. He was birdy butt-hurt for quite some time after that.

I decided to make the journey—an hour by foot—to Ecruteak my exorcize for the day. I ended up jogging at a fast pace, glad to have worn my running shoes instead of my boots, and hating the ground under my feet every step of the way. Zephyr made me lopsided, sitting a whopping five eight pounds on my left shoulder. He was supposed to be about four or five pounds and the most, and though you wouldn't realize a few extra pounds I knew it was time he had some exorcize as well.

I grabbed him swiftly at one point, making him screech in shock, and then throwing him up into the air until he didn't have a choice but to unfurl those short wings of his and fly. I picked up the pace then, sweating off the cold in replacement for blood pumping and calf-tightening. My legs often became cramped with horrible pains, so bad that even when I stopped they were impossible to endure. However this was something I solved after meeting up with a foreign trainer one day in the gym. He told me with a thick Hoenn accent that if I simply stretched before hand and drank a lot of water it wouldn't happen.

Zephyr was a fiery butter ball of sweat and hate by the time I slowed up to Morty's front porch, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. The little bird thumped to the ground, limp, looking completely dead without even the energy to twitch. I called him back into his pokeball before turning my head up to ring Morty's door bell.

My stomach was a little uneasy due to the lunch I had before my run, so I had to sit and focus on not hurling while I waited. The ground was cold on my butt, but the old brick porch my back was up against felt good on my back. I ran a hand through my damp mop of hair, taking deep breathes and waiting for the adrenaline to wear off into exhaustion.

The door clicked open after a moment, revealing what I thought would have been Morty, but turned into his pokemon instead. Gengar, truly a gentleman, gestured for me to come in. I wondered briefly if the ghost would let any stranger in Morty's house, but then decided that he was probably a better guard than even the most loyal Growlithe.

"Thanks." I said to the Gengar, shuffling up and walking into the candle-lit house. It was darker than usual in here today, with less of the tiny orange sphere of light dotted around. The black curtains were hanging over every window, shut tight but still revealing some light from the outside world. Gengar shut the door behind me before reaching up to me with a somewhat solid claw.

The pokemon really couldn't grab my hand, but I knew that was what it wanted as it beckoned my along past the memorable leather couches to the dark hallway. He stopped at the second door on the left and opened it for me, bowing his head before slinking away. It was Morty's guest bathroom, the first one I jacked off in.

It was apparent that the ghost pokemon wanted me to take a shower by the way he flicked his hand back and forth, signaling the bad smells coming off of me to go away. He pointed at the showerhead nodding eagerly, and then with grinning eyes disappeared beneath the floor. I sighed, not wanting to take a shower in Morty's house without asking, but knowing if I did ask he would only suggest coming in with me. Besides, if I really smelt that bad…

I wouldn't lie, Gengar was quite blunt and insulting, but I liked the pokemon a lot, even when he appeared again, tossing a bath sponge at me. It narrowly avoided falling in the toilet.

"Gee thanks." I locked the door—not that it would keep Gengar out—and stripped quickly.

My body was flushed from the run, warm and radiating heat but pale from lack of sun lately. The winters here in Johto were not kind to towns like Ecruteak and Violet. The sun was rarely uncovered by the clouds, and that didn't spare me the ability to look a little more alive. I ran my hand up my stomach, crooking my head to the side and perching my lips when I felt the small but evident abs. I couldn't remember a day when I didn't have the lean, but muscular body I did today, but upon looking at my own ass and thighs I could see where running had started to tone my lower half

.

I turned to the shower, pushing the thick tinted glass back and reaching over to start the water, which came fast and hard from the faucet. Clair may be right about Morty being particular over water pressure… judging by this alone.

I shook my head to myself, smiling softly, totally content as steam started to flit around my cold body.

….

~Morty~

I really was just asleep one lazy afternoon, when Falkner showed up, a fallen angel to help a devil out. He even got the shower started for us… the sexy baby.

Gengar unlocked the door easily, but left it to me to open—which I did with great pleasure. There wasn't even a breath of hesitation as I entered the steamy, hot room that revealed Falkner in all his naked glory to me. And what was even better, his eyes were closed and content as he focused on my glorious water pressure pounding him in the shoulders.

"God I love your ass." I commented nonchalantly, unbuckling my belt and slipping it off as Falkner gasped in sheer terror, jolting around and narrowly avoiding to slip while latching onto the door handle.

"Get out!" He demanded, a creaky screech beyond the foggy glass. I couldn't make out his features all that clearly, but from here I could tell I loved him wet and dripping.

"Like I haven't seen you naked before." I rolled my eyes. "Did you forget about our previous bath time together?"

He turned away from me, hiding in the corner of the tile walls and hunching forward in embarrassment. "You could have knocked."

"This is my house." I snorted, pulling my pants and boxers off and throwing my shirt aside a moment later. I licked my lips, approaching the familiar hard that was my morning—most people's afternoon—good wood. I knew it would frighten Falkner, and somehow that made me smile.

"Go away." Falkner moaned as I pushed open the shower door and stepped in beside him, hissing slightly as the shower head scorched me.

"Damn you like it hot." I slapped his ass and curled him around into the shape of me, kneading the rounded plump muscle of his glutes.

He gasped, shoving away from me and I moved in to kiss him.

"NO—Nommmphhhh—

I let my tongue scathe the inside of his mouth to silence him, tasting the hot, sweet saliva of mid-day. There was an ever so slight taste of sweet shampoo on his skin and upon biting his neck I found that it wasn't far from having my mouth washed out. I moaned into him, feeling a sudden difference in his hips and thighs as I played around there, circling in on his dick.

"Are you working out?" I asked, gripping the sides of his pelvis. "Or if this puberty's last stage in developing your sexy body?"

"I—I run." Falkner flushed a bright red as I pressed my erection up against his stomach—do to the few inches height difference.

"Or really?" I kissed him softly. "I burn my calories chasing after you."

He shook his head. "Y—you're not going to rape me now are you?"

"In the shower? That's far too common. It's like elevator sex; everyone wants it but it's not any better than sex in a bed."

"So I'm safe?"

"Not at all." I laughed. "You love me and you still won't have sex with me. How unfair is that?"

He didn't answer, merely avoiding eye contact as something grew between his legs. His bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as if he couldn't stand holding back any longer. Besides, there is no avoiding the way it felt to have someone's dick head pressed against your belly button.

"M—Morty…"

"Hmmm?"

"If I promise to have sex with you… at some point… will you wait until I'm ready?"

"What if you're never ready?"

I wasn't sure I could give Falkner the time of day like that, seeing as though he showed only a drop of improvement since I met him. He gave me a handjob… but that was no sex. I wanted to feel him under me… I wanted to part those precious plump cheeks and tear at the hole between them until he screamed. I wanted to feel his mouth over me; I wanted to taste his cum. I wanted it all, every which way and position until we dropped dead. I loved Falkner though, and love often got in the way of lust—it was a pain in the ass like that.

"But I will be…" the navy bird trainer rested his head against my chest, perhaps attempting to look too innocent to fuck.

"Tell me." I wrapped my arms around him tightly. "Why don't you want to have sex with me?"

"I'm just not ready…"

"Seriously? What aren't you ready for?"

"I—I don't know…"

I clicked my tongue at him. "You don't even know your own reason. Are you afraid of my dick up your ass? Do you think I will hurt you?"

He flushed a bright, luscious pink. "I—I don't know… maybe."

"There are things to help with that you know." I snickered.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I feel ready. Can't you respect that?" His large aqua eyes peered up at me, through the steam and the heat and the lust of the moment, a tiny spark of love broke through, and I hated that this was happening to me. Had Falkner been anyone else I would have told him no and handcuffed his ass to my bed—I had done it before. But he was just too… too cute. The way his small lips pouted softly when he was mad, the way his tender heart thumped unevenly about my chest.

"If I can respect that…" I sighed, pressing my forehead against his. "Then you should respect that my every fantasy is about having hot, passionate sex with you."

He shivered at the word. "Bu—But I—

"Let's meet in the middle." My lips trailed the length of his jaw, down his neck and to the tip of his shoulder. "We're already naked, your hard, I'm hard… it's the least we can do for each other right?"

He said nothing as I pulled back slightly, kissing at his chest and pausing to suckle one of his soft nipples. Had I been a jerk I would have hit the faucet the other way and made freezing water dump down his back, just to get those nipples perked, but I was no jerk… sort of. I flicked my tongue about his chest like an arbok, slithering down to the contours of his lean stomach muscles, bending at the knees and holding his hips tightly.

I stared his boner in the face with dignity, enjoying the gentle slope and the narrow, rounded head. Falkner was stiff as a board above me, holding his breath as I touched his delicate, perfect balls. I kissed below his belly button, the sides of his thighs, the hard muscles of his pelvis, everything but his erection because I knew it would drive him mad. Shifting his legs to the sides I smirked, a wild, sex crazed grin that had my heart on fire. Ever so softly, the touch of a feather, but barely, I pressed my lips to the head of his cock.

He freaked then, and I should have known it would happen, but I still surprised me. Lashing away in panic he threw open my shower doors, letting them clatter with a bang as he tried so irrationally to get away. Water went up in a whir, sloshing over my floors and making him nervous about slipping. Lucky for me I was able to stand and catch him before he could run away again.

"Hell no." I pinned him against the wall. "You're not getting away this time. Not again!"

He shivered against me, lip quivering and eyes squeezed shut so tightly it looked painful.

"If you're going to cum, then cum." I grabbed hold of his dick firmly while still pinning him. He gasped softly.

"Come on… Sweetheart." I whispered in his ear. "It's ok…"

"I—I-

He breathed heavily; huffing on air as water droplets lines his face like tiny crystals.

"Ah…ahh…" Naturally, his male instinct was to hump, and so his hips rolled forward while he grasped a handful of my sopping wet hair. Falkner would not look me in the eyes when he came, I knew that but it still bothered me slightly. He pressed his face into my shoulder trembling, mounting the shape of my hand around his dick until a furious motion came over him. He lurched forward as I held tighter and pumped faster, body scorching with heat and hips tight with pressure.

"Ahh! AH!" everything tightened, even his hand on my ass—which I quite enjoyed—was gripping, scratching at the skin for some kind of stability. He came in squirts, long thin ones, the kinds that made my cum look ugly and overpowering in comparison. Between our bodies the pale milky substance landed, but was washed away when the shower water hit us. I had no time to taste it, sadly, but was at least happy Falkner finally did it in front of me.

"I—I can't believe…. You…" his eyes were half-lidded, almost dilated looking as he slumped over onto my arms.

"Don't you feel better?" I kissed him softly on the lips.

"I feel dirty…"

"You're in the shower Sweetheart, that's impossible."

"Fuck you."

"No, you're just embarrassed for no reason." I nuzzled him softly. "Come on now, it's no big deal. I love you."

He shut his lips in a tight line, not looking at me but down at his still throbbing erection as I had released it a moment ago. That or he was staring at mine, which pulsated from deep within, daring to explode upon contact with his gentle, slender hand.

"You best say you love me back." I threatened softly, making him roll his eyes, fighting a shaky laugh. It was one of the most pleasant sounds I had ever heard.

"I love you…" He allowed…

"But you're an asshole."


	38. Chapter 38

~Falkner~

"I don't know what to wear…" I groaned, feeling too much like estrogen and not enough like testosterone.

"Don't worry! We will find you something here." Gold's excited and throaty voice came, followed by the faint knock on the door.

"Honey! I know you're gay, so stop locking your door when boys are over!"

"But MOM!" Gold groaned in response. "You know I like Silver! So STahp! Go away."

There were faint footsteps leading down the old wooden staircase to Gold's living room below.

The honey eyed boy had been a life savor today, calling me because he was wondering if he could come see the birds in the sanctuary and he wanted to know if we could go to the club tonight together. Apparently he had something serious against showing up alone, and at the time Silver had been an unreliable sourpuss, so Gold came to me. Sadly I had to turn him down, saying that I was going with Morty and if I dared stand him up again he would probably kill me and then rape my corpse. Gold laughed at the time, but his heart had fallen until Silver managed o text him back saying he would meet him at his house later around six.

In the mean time Gold and I got to talking; a lot about birds, and a lot about sex, and even more about what we were supposed to wear. Though he was dead set on wearing his leather pants, I wasn't so partial to anything that held down my crotch—especially with Morty around. We wound up back at Gold's home in the tiny town of New Bark, where his mother could harass him over being gay. She even asked if he had condoms because she was going to the store later. I personally thought Gold had the nicest mom in the world—in comparison to the strict father I grew up with—but he said she spent all his savings on stupid things and it pissed him off.

"Are you sure you don't want leather pants?" Gold asked me, digging through his closet for a second pairs. Who has leather pants to begin with? Let alone TWO pairs.

"I'm good." I said a moment before the thick, heavy pants slapped me in the face. I grunted, throwing them off and narrowly avoiding another pair of shorts. Gold was haphazardly in his digging through the closet.

"Skinny jeans?"

"Don't you wear anything even remotely normal?"

A jock strap was flung my direction, landing on Zephyr who was busy chittering happily with the big bundle of hot fur that took up the majority of Gold's queen size bed. The Typhlosion was utterly goofy, not a care in the world as it often rolled back and forth, wanting me to pet it.

"Try these jeans." Gold turned then, holding out a pair of semi-dark jeans with strategically placed rips. "They might be a little big, but that's why belts were invented."

I had to admit, despite most of Gold's clothing these looked relatively nice. I wondered why he didn't wear them more often, or at least at all. They still had the tags on them for Arceus sake.

"You really are quite the fashionista aren't you?" I mumbled, pulling my own torn up jeans down and switching them for his over a pair of black boxers.

"You wear butthuggers?" Gold snickered.

"No. I wear semi-tight boxers. There's a difference."

He rolled his eyes, having revealed his own silver, silken boxers to me not long ago. I made fun of him by saying he purposefully put SILVER around his crotch, and he didn't disagree at all.

"No, no no." Gold shook his head as I slipped his jeans up over my waist and went to buckle them. "You can't wear these… Come on, take them off, try the leather."

"I don't want to wear leather pants." I disagreed, liking the way his jeans fit me after all. I backed away from his prying hands as he moved in to undo them for me. "Stop it." I slapped his wrist like a naughty child.

"Sorry, sorry." Gold held his hands up in defense. "I wasn't going for your dick or anything."

"These fit me good, Gold what's wrong with them?" I turned, looking at my own ass in the floor length mirror Gold had up against the wall.

"What's wrong with them?" Gold snorted. "You pull them off better than I can, that's what wrong."

I smiled slightly, pleased with the reaction. "I still don't know what to wear for a shirt though."

"Forget shirts." Gold scoffed. "You need accessories. Your ears pierced?"

"No." I didn't even want to ask if his were… but assuming that way he dug through a shoe box on his nightstand. It was the equivalent of a girl's jewelry box, only less embarrassing. I noticed a lot of gold and silver things in there, small dainty chains to large pins and even a few hair clips that were surprisingly manly.

"Here we go…" Gold plucked out two of the clips, shining a sharp silver and flickering in the light form his window. "Sit down." He gestured to the edge of his bed.

I did as he told, trying to remember who I was as he pushed back pieces of my hair, trying to stabilize it. My father would be pulling his hair out right now if he knew just what I was doing… but at the same time I felt a sense of freedom for being able to hang out with friends and let them flit over me. Gold was a good guy, anyone could see that, and he was helpful and funny. I could see where my father would have problem with Morty of course, but not this kid. Gold was a natural good, a shining light in a world of darkness. I closed my eyes as he pinned in the little silver clips, thinking that love could be much easier with someone like him. It was a shame I was attracted to darkness.

"Hey Gold." I murmured as he stepped back from me. I spoke as I looked in the mirror. "Do you ever think Silver drives you crazy… but you love him because of that?"

The clips looked good in my hair. It felt awkward of course, but I was actually grinning to myself at the sight.

"Actually I think I drive him crazier than he does me." Gold chuckled to himself. "Silver only makes me mad when he runs away from me…"

I wanted to slap myself in the face for asking. Me and Gold weren't so different… or maybe I should say Gold and Morty weren't so different. Silver and I were being driving insane by our—dare I say—semes. I blamed online manga for knowing the dirty word at all, but it really was the only way to describe it.

"Does Morty drive you crazy?" Gold wondered, slipping his shirt off and replacing it with a tight black tanktop that hugged his chest nicely. He went to the closet, looking sleek like a mighty cat in that outfit, and pulled out a leather jacket to top it all off.

"He makes me want to stab my eyes out sometimes." I mumbled as a vibration came from my own pants, which were on the bed in a bundle. I scrambled through them nonchalantly, wondering how Morty could have known we were talking about him.

"Who's that?" Gold wondered, putting in a single golden stud on his right ear, and a smaller silver one below it.

"Clair…" I read in surprise.

iTo Falkner

From Clair: if u don't cum 2 my party 2night I will tell the wrld ur secret./i

"She wants to make sure I'm coming tonight…" I explained as Gold read over my shoulder.

"Haha, she wrote cum." He giggled heartily to himself. I rolled my eyes at the immature kid.

i To Clair

From Falkner: I'll be there./i

"Here…" Gold had moved away from me, to the drawers of his nightstand. He dug through swiftly, pulling out a silk bandanna and tossing it at me. "You're gonna tie that in with…. This belt." He held out the thick, big buckled thing. "Make sure your tanktop is tucked in." He added, moving across to the closet again and digging through. I couldn't figure out how Gold found anything with his room this messy.

"We'll match." The honey eyes boy gave me the exact same tank top he wore. "Accept you will be wearing that sexy flight jacket of yours right?"

"No I actually brought a different jacket…" I nodded. "Which is stupid because it's also leather."

"Great taste babe." Gold teased, since he was wearing a near identical one. His had more studs on it, but zipped boringly up the middle, whereas mine was artfully placed with zigzagging zippers and fit me tighter on the shoulders.

"Dammit look at us." I shook my head upon the reflection in the mirror. Gold was grinning wickedly.

"We look like a couple of sex machines." He approved.

"Morty is going to be all over me…" I huffed, blushing slightly. It wasn't as if I was trying to attract him in any way, but the idea of him flustered for once—instead of me—actually made me happy.

"I'll be all over Silver." Gold nodded. "Oh yeah and if I make out with you tonight don't take it personally. You know, this is my first time drinking more than just a few sips. I mean… I think I will be fine, but I'm not afraid of hangovers so there's no stopping tonight. So you know… my mind might be scattered and in the moment you might be… yeah."

I flinched. Morty already threatened to kill Gold once; I didn't need him meaning it this time. "Just try and stay focused on Silver." I advised.

"Oh I will." He agreed, though cut off by the sound of a doorbell. "And speak of the devil now."

"Silver's here honey!" Gold's mother yelled up to him from downstairs.

"Let him in!" Gold retorted before turning and grabbing a pokeball off his bed next to Typhlosion. "Sorry Falkner, I'm kicking you out now. Take Togekiss and go home, then let her fly back here on her own."

I laughed at Gold's goofy blushy grin.

"Alright have fun. But I won't say I'm not insulted!" I punched him softly in the shoulder as he was shoving me towards the window. "Come on Zephyr!" I ordered the pidgey.

"Thanks for hanging out with me!" Gold waved goodbye before throwing open his bedroom door and racing out into the hallway for the stairs. "SILVY!" He yelled, giddy as all hell.

I laughed to myself, calling out the Togekiss and nuzzling her lovingly as she rubbed against me, obviously remembering who I was.

We left quickly after that, not a moment before the honey eyes boy and the foxy redhead reached the bedroom together. And through the window I looked back, swearing that for a split second, they had been holding hands.

…..

~Jasmine~

I was over it. The perverted hands…. Those grimy… perverted, hairy hands that had touched me every other day for the last two weeks, with threats about telling my father lies and making me lose my gym. Chuck was one bastard of a man. One selfish façade that no one would expect. But I was done. His fat ass would pay.

I hiked up my dress a little more, revealing the soft, silky and freshly shaven legs all the way up to my thighs. Whitney and I had been waxed, trimmed, manicured, and massaged in order to impress the Kanto gym leaders that would be at the party tonight. We were already downing drinks as we got ready, in order to skip the awkward time in which it took for the ordered drinks at the bar to take effect.

My heart was a barb within my body, broken, crushed, but out for revenge. I may be sweet as a cupcake on normal occasion, but previous outings had proved me to be an angry drunk. This was crude and ruthless effect I was going for tonight.

My makeup was dark, rimming my eyes in such a way that no one would ever expect from my usual, carefully sketched eye shadow. My lips were bloody red, crimson in a sea of wintery skin, my face dotted with tiny sun freckles as I stared at myself in the mirror.

I hiked up my dress a little more, shaping my breasts into the push up, strapless bra from beneath. It was warm here in Olivine, and despite knowing just how cold the rest of the Region would be… I wore my skimpiest dress. Tonight I intended to dance. Tonight I intended to get drunk out of my mind. Tonight would be the night I won Falkner over.

The girl in the mirror staring back at me was not the damaged, shapeless young woman she had been the last few weeks while her "uncle" took advantage of her, she was a light of gorgeousness among a sea of shallow bathroom lights. I fixed my lipstick once again, hiked up my black dress a little more, and sprayed myself with the sexiest perfume I owned.

Tonight was my night.


	39. Chapter 39

…

~Falkner~

The night drew on long and hard, like the alcohol inflated dick that Morty had pressed up against my crotch at one point during an Adam Lambert song. He even made a move to unbuckle his belt, but I slapped his hand harshly before he had the chance. This caused him to grin and bite at me, threatening to drink more himself and make me drink more, which was the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen.

I was only on the verge of tipsy now, blinking rapidly as the smells and sounds all suddenly became one sense in my brain. Nothing seemed to move at their own pace anymore, but while my body wanted to go faster to match it, I felt as though I was sluggishly lulling along behind. It was this feeling that in the end, got me out onto the dance floor.

Green and Red took turns swinging each other around, flip-flopping positions and kissing each other lovingly, as if they were the only two in this world, and then repelling apart as if they were two magnet ends in the same direction. Red had grabbed me at one point, delicately holding the small of my back while we turning and curled to the beat, my smiling sheepishly as Morty was too busy glaring at that physic trainer, Sabrina, to notice. Red resembled a bird as he pecked me on the cheek and whispered a friendly "thanks for the dance" in my ear—it was the first thing I heard him say all night.

By midnight all the leaders had come to join the party, even Pryce who had stopped by to see an old friend—Blaine, the mellow fire trainer from Kanto. I found this highly amusing since fire was so deadly against ice, and the two seemed to sport each others preferences exactly. I caught part of a conversation they had when I stepped out into the crisp night air to cool off at one point. The two had been sitting at a table, enjoying he night rather than the stuffy club while they talked over golfing and how terrible some of the younger trainers were these days. That made me feel a bit unwelcomed, so I wound up back inside sooner than expected.

Gold found me at one point, picking me up and swinging me around as if I was his favorite toy. He laughed heartily, already intoxicated—but somehow still holding his own head—and telling me that I still looked good even after a few hours of "party-hardy time" as he put it. Silver smiled shyly from his side, looking to be embarrassed over something, or maybe he was just too nervous around all these new people. I appreciated that he was sober though, and decided that it couldn't do me any harm to take a break for a few moments.

Gold was a spectacular dancer, getting up and stripping his leather jacket on the bar while the foreign strippers kneaded his leather covered crotch eagerly. In any other situation I would have felt sorry for him, but seeing as though it was all to get the attention of one particular redhead—whose face was nearly the same color—I felt more sorry for Silver. Morty had vanished at this point, leaving me and the redhead to guzzle water bottles in hopes to cleanse our systems from any future alcohol poisoning.

I ended up looking the lean rooky trainer over, simply by accident while my chest swam with sudden cool moisture. I drank in a long breath, happy to be in a less crowded area where the hookah and cigarette smoke didn't reach. Silver wore jeans, quite like myself, only they made his legs look extra long and beautiful. He was firm, despite his lankiness though, and the heavy cardigan he wore buttoned up fit him nicely. The sleeves were rolled up in neat cuffs at his wrists, and his collar was down smooth, sleek and the complete opposite of his luscious, long foxy red hair. It stopped at his waist but seemed to beg for more as it curled delicately.

"Do you think Gold is going to be the new champion one day?" Silver leaned over and asked in my ear, his voice raw from the smoke.

I looked up at the heart young trainer, who was refusing a blowjob with throaty purring laughs. The foreign stripper with the chestnut hair made angelic begging eyes at him, batting his long black lashes for a moment before Gold managed to slip away, only to run into the one with the tea green hair—slightly longer than Silver's.

"'He has the strength…" I told Silver. "But who knows if he has the brains…"

The redhead nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "H—He held my hand today… and maybe this is the alcohol talking… but I think I liked it."

I opened my mouth to tell him that this was a good thing, but was stopped abruptly when a hand found my arm. Without looking over I told Silver to hold on, turning with a lazy grin to meet who I thought would be Morty.

"Hey Swee—

I cus off, mid sentence, realizing that A: I has just been about to call Morty "Sweetheart", which was his pet name for me, and B: that this was not Morty before me at all, but a very petite girl with huge dusty chestnut eyes and the same toned hair. I stepped back in surprise, managing to bump into Silver and send a glass slipping out of his hand. He cursed, elbowing me crossly before bending to pick up the larger shards of glass.

"S—sorry!" I stepped away from Silver, rounding to the other side of the bar with Jasmine still swooning after me.

"Hey big boy~" She licked her smeared red lipstick with a pleasant sniff. "Where you been hiding? Huh?"

"Ja—Jasmine… you're drunk." I tried to shoo her away as I did to her best friend earlier this evening. Whitney had proven to be about as solid as jello when it came to holding her soberness, but that was saying something since Jasmine looked about as solid as the liquid poison she consumed.

"I know." She shoved me suddenly, her emotions faltering between anger and love. "It's your fault!"

"N—No!" I shook my head, up against the bar and worried. Her voice was suddenly shrill.

"YOU FUCKER! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" her slender fists came down on my chest as hard as she could manage. I flinched at the impact, wishing that her specialty wasn't steel types because it appeared to rub off on her hands.

"Jasmine stop!" I grabbed her wrists, trying to pin her body away from me. I didn't want to hurt the girl as she fought with me though, and seeing that she was already bleeding from a mouth mark on her neck I couldn't even fight back. She ripped away from me almost as quickly as she flung herself back against my chest, this time sobbing uncontrollably. Her makeup ran between the leather jacket that I had unbuttoned, and onto the black of Gold's tanktop.

"You would rape me wouldn't you?" She stretched up on her toes, pinning me against me bar as my heart jolted.

"Watch out!" Silver barked from somewhere below, and in the same instant I stepped on the glass that I had caused to break before AND knocked over another glass from the counter. It fell with a thud, striking the redhead in the shoulder and making some pink slushy drink spatter all over his back as he bent. Luckily it didn't break until it actually hit the floor.

"Fuck!" Silver cursed, holding his wet shoulder with a wince. "Falkner!"

"I—I'm sorry!" I fought with a drunken Jasmine gently, trying not to shove her like I wanted to, and finding that upon her mouth on mine she tasted of unnatural things. She gagged as my breath blew out at her, which in return made me gag, but luckily I was much more stable than she was at the moment.

Jasmine swallowed a mouthful of vomit it seemed, grunting and still coming at me, hands at my belt buckle and breasts falling out all over the place. I struggled, unable to move though now that Chuck, Lt. Surge (a Kanto leader), and Whitney had all crowded over in shock.

"Ja—Jas—

I managed to hold her back from sucking on my face as she sobbed and laughed hysterically, landing faint blows on my chest. Gold had escaped the strippers now and was making his way over quickly, eyes wide with distress but not for me—for Silver, who was bleeding heavily from his hands where glass had snagged him in the dark.

"Jasmine!" I snarled at her, squeezing my eyes shut and managing to step up onto the first peg of barstool and hoist myself onto the bar. She was at my waist now though, and with a flustered cough she tried to scramble up beside me.

"JASMINE!" It was not my voice this time, but a much more threatening one.

Before I could blink Morty had reappeared, shoving Lt. Surge and Whitney and Chuck out of the way while I managed to swing my legs away from the steel trainer. She gasped at me, eyes wide and sick with love—yes love. Not the cold hearted lust that I had become so familiar with, but love. Genuine, passionate love that broke through even the most thick layers of her brown eyes. She cried out, a high pitched yelp as Morty used his full force against her small shape, thrusting her aside as hard as he could and making her heels slip in the alcohol spill from below. Half the club—even the strippers—seemed to glance over in confusion as to see what was going on.

Jasmine's head cracked against the floor, and thankful as I was that nothing seemed to spew blood or splatter, I found myself suddenly affronted with what Morty had just done.

My father taught me never to hit girls. Never to touch girls unless it was a sign of affection. Never to do anything that could harm them. He believed that in every female there was a lady, and should be treated as such. I wasn't sure I believed him, but I knew I didn't not believe him enough to think otherwise. Jasmine's eyes lolled once before a sharp spasm coursed through her body, and she projectile vomited a arrangement of orange, pink, and yellow colors in the mix of broken glass beside her.

I had never felt so sorry for someone before in my life.

"Falkner, fucking—fuck her—don't you fuckin—

Morty couldn't even make out a coherent sentence as he grabbed me then, slipped my off the bar and away from the spill as Chuck was helping his adopted niece to her feet again. Whitney was crying now, but everything else seemed relatively normal. The strippers went back to their groping each other, the hookah lounge was alight with terrible aroma's, the music—though it had never stopped—seemed to grow louder in my ears.

"Put me down!" I snarled at the ghost trainer, needing to return to Jasmine and see if she was ok. Even if I didn't like her like she liked me, I wasn't so low as to assume her fall had been mild. She probably had a concussion. And not only that, but I noticed Gold rushing Silver over to the bathroom signs, leaving a trail of blood behind.

"No!" Morty dragged me along, barely letting my feet touch the ground as the lights flickered around.

"LET ME GO!" I slapped him—no—I backhanded him hard. So hard that you could hear the sharp iTHWACK/i as it landed on his left cheek.

I never believed I would ever strike Morty like I did, but if there was anything I was proud of, it was the fact that he took it like a man and set me down, jaw so tight it looked ready to crack his teeth. He leaned over me, boring those deadly violet eyes into mine and breathing heavily, like a furious Rapidash his nostrils flared with rage.

"Morty I—

"Don't." He hissed. "It was my mistake…"

And just like that he disappeared into the crowd again, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers and booze and harsh wailing noise. My heart caught in my chest, tighter than the way it felt even a moment ago, and I began to tremble in fright.

"Morty…" I blinked away my alcohol induced tears, talking to no one because no one would listen. "I—I'm sorry."


	40. Chapter 40

~Morty~

I was not mad at Falkner.

I was not mad at myself either.

But dammit was I mad at the fucking smudge on my fucking glass of fucking whisker.

I shoved the thing back at the bartender—a slender Unovan man with dark hair and red rimmed glasses. He looked frightened of me, and didn't attempt to wipe up the spill I caused until a moment later when it seemed my mind was on something else. I was at the furthest bar in this club, sitting alone and staring at my cell phone screen as I text angry apologies to Falkner because I was too much of a pussy to do it in person.

I was not mad at Falkner…

But I couldn't keep telling myself that I wasn't upset. Alcohol stung like a beedrill in my chest, only ever subsiding as I pushed more into my system. Some drinks I tried new and fresh out of the bottle, others I took as leftovers when strangers decided it had become too painful to sit within five seats of me anymore. As far as I was concerned lonely drinks were free game, and I knew I was too drunk to think about the common sense of it all. I was completely overwhelmed, my eyes scoring the faces of many young adults who danced and sweated and cried with both laughter and sadness This whole place had become the devils ground, and despite me being no stranger, I was feeling the effects of rotting in hell.

I thought Falkner would be easy after a few drinks, but given that we had a little too much fun together before Jasmine interrupted, he completely did a one-eighty, and his anger had been directed at me, if only for a moment. And it was not the hot red print on my face that hurt; it was knowing that I had reacted so harshly. I could have put him down and tried to compromise; show a little understanding to how he was feeling at the moment… but I had just been so damn mad.

My temper was my worst enemy, I had known that for a long time now, but what I didn't know was just how much control it had over me. I hadn't been so reckless in quite some time—not since a new year's party had been thrown the day before I opened my gym for the first time, and every one of those disgusting gym leaders had postponed the date because of their hangovers. At the time Pryce had been the only one to call me and apologize, and this was the last party he had gone to with us younger crowd.

After the rough beginning I had with these gym leaders I thought I could find closure in Falkner, and despite being lustful over him since the moment I saw him I wondered if it had ever really been meant to be. Drowning in my sorrows at the bar I ordered another drink, then another, then another but left it sitting perfectly untouched before me.

I loved Falkner.

Dammit I loved that kid with all my blood sweat and tears and whatever other hopelessly romantic crap that came along with emotions. I wanted him to love me as well, I wanted him to come to me when he was lonely or upset, and I wanted to be the man in his life he so desperately needed… so much that I had completely looked over the fact that I suddenly needed him.

I needed Falkner…

Shit…

I gestured the barmaid over with a flick of my wrist, shaking my head as her daisy dukes hitched up her crotch and her black tanktop was lacy and sheer above her breasts. Her hair was long and dark and her eyes a painful ocean to look at without being seasick over remembering Falkner.

"I need paper and a pen." I growled to her thickly, knowing that by tomorrow I wouldn't remember any of this.

"Most surely." She said, thick with accent, pulling out her ordering book from her pouch around her waist and ripping off a blank page. She pushed it over to me with a ballpoint pen and then walked away swiftly, leaving the smell of perfume behind with her.

My eyes were weak as it was, but I managed to focus slightly on the pidgey-scratch letters that leaked out of the pen. Normally I had very nice, neat handwriting, but not now. I scrawled my previous thoughts into the paper with a hurried sluggishness.

iI neeed him. Falkner. I LOvE him. I hope he finds this note. I, I, I. fuck. Its all about me. Well I love him. Sweetheart is BEAutiful. He is everything I want. Ilove him. Shit. strikeI nee/strike does he need me?/i

I crumpled up the paper and shoved it in my jacket pocket before throwing the pen down in frustration. The room was beginning to spin, and all drinks suddenly felt very heavy in my hands. I pushed the untouched beverage away from me and focused on keeping my head between my hands.

I need him… I love him… The selfish thoughts kept running through my head as I swam in a pool of alcohol and second hand smoke. I love him. I need him. I love him. I love him. I fucking love him.

"Hey! Morty!"

My mind snapped around as I was called, quickly and sharply through the music so that I couldn't quite make out the tone of the voice let alone the words that followed. All I knew was that no one would have approached me except for Falkner or maybe Lance to tell me that I was being expelled from the gym leaders league for pushing Jasmine. Deciding it was better to take my chances I whirled, eyes piercing and hands lashing out to grab the solid male form before me.

I yanked him in close, hand gripping the back of his neck as we sunk against the bar and our mouths molded together in a moment of pure heated hate. This was most surely not Mr. Kiss my ass though, so I didn't stop.

Muscles under my fingers… rounded hot butt cheeks beneath a material that could not breathe. Thick chest and powerful shoulders and furious lips fighting with mine as two large hands snagged me by the shoulders and tried to fight back in surprise.

The tanktop material and leather jacket had me confused. Falkner had been wearing such an outfit before but he had most certainly not grown so much within a short hour of not speaking to me. I kneaded his sides, hands gripping the amount of muscle below the leather jacket and tank top before remembering that I had kissed the ribs on Falkner after our shower together a few days ago and found that he had three obvious indents upon his lanky torso. His chest was smaller as well, though the waist felt the same to me.

Eyes half opened and mouth chugging against his I realized that this was no bird trainer before me. My hand in his hair was not gripping much; just a shallow patch of thick—not feathery—clumps. I snorted, angry, thinking that if perhaps maybe I pushed harder it would magically turn into the person I wanted it to be.

"Fuuhh…. Fuuu." The male beneath me gasped as I suckled on his collar bone, feverish and wishing—hating—that this wasn't Falkner below me. He rasped my name as his tailbone collided with the bar and I scrambled up the front of him, using the barstool as an anchor. Amidst the lights and the sultry air I found a pair of stricking golden eyes looking up at me, wild and crazed and completely ok despite the common sense beyond the drunkenness.

It was the rooky trainer; Gold. The same kid that had beaten me in my gym so long ago, ruining a streak of wins I had been on for quite some time. That was the first thing I didn't like about him. The second was the fact that he had befriended my Sweetheart so simply, and the two even dressed alike to come to this party. He had also made Falkner stand me up for a bird at one point. I glared down at him in lusty hatred. The third thing I did not like about Gold was the inevitable fact that I was so fucking horny in his presence just because he radiated sex like a radiator radiated heat.

Angry and throbbing I pinned his shoulders down against the bar, holding him with the surprising strength beneath my clothes and nuzzling his leather crotch violently. There was already a definite budge beneath the material, but upon my saliva slipping through the zipper, and my teeth raking the shape, it grew. I pinned his legs back, knocking over glasses and making the foreign barmaid gasp as glass flew at her from across the floor. With jerky movements I palmed where Gold's asshole would lie beneath his pants, biting and licking at his pelvis muscle while he clawed at my hair, making throaty animal noises.

"I beat you once I—I'll do it again!" Gold yelped at one point, as I ripped his jacked back and pulled him down to be back in front of me. His back was cold from the granite bar counter tops and as I forced the black material of his tanktop up to suck his nipples I felt him drawing closer to me, allured by the feeling of sex beneath his skin.

I ravished the perfect hard nubs of his chest greedily, biting when he felt a little too comfortable, and slipping the zipper down on his crotch when I got the chance. His hand had already found its way into my trousers, making me hold my breath as the belt I wore gave him no move for maneuvering. His fingers were lovely and hot and strong as he cupped my balls, squeezing them beneath the material of my boxers and perhaps trying to find a way to reach my dick.

He kissed me this time, completely lost as we both thought about the lovers we wished we were holding. Falkner would never give me the time of day to ravish him, he would probably just slap me again, and I doubted Silver was anything more than a stroll through the gardens of hell to deal with. The foxy haired kid didn't even have the guts to tell Gold how he felt, let alone take away his sexual frustrations.

I remembered how Falkner had held my dick in his hand and pumped gently, growing faster and harder only when I decided to let him. It was a day I had been waiting a long time for. And then after that again, in the shower, where I actually managed to make Falkner cum.

Gold, having caught himself in the act of being submissive, realized that this was not the game he had signed up to play. The dark haired boy yanked away from me, his honey eyes flashing with utter lust and hate as he grabbed a fistful of my dick and turned, forcing my pelvis to swing with him because—let's face it no one wants their balls ripped off for a drunk one night stand.

Gold was a powerhouse, using his broad shoulders to thrust me along while his hands came up again, one gripping the collar of my shirt, the other slipping dirty fingers into my mouth so that I could taste the skin of my own dick. I sucked on them hard, not because I enjoyed the taste of balls or anything, but because it was what any gentlemen would do upon their sex partner shoving fingers in their mouth.

Gold was a dirty player though, and so when my saliva was sloppy enough on his hands he replaced the fingers with his own tongue, slipping it against mine because it felt so good. Hot, luxurious strokes. Strokes I wished could be Falkner's.

"Take me." Gold huffed, which contradicted his actions since suddenly my ass was up against the bar, and I was the one sending drinks flying. From beside us—we must had moved down a few barstools—I caught a glimpse of Sabrina who wished she was this lucky, get up and leave. She went to her sugar daddy for the night, which just so happened to be Brock the hard as a rock trainer. I never liked the man. He didn't have a serious bone in his body—except for when he was boning Misty.

"Take it!" Gold snarled at me, biting my neck and sucking hard to leave a dark hicky while his hips crashed into mine repeatedly, slamming down on my crotch like a jackhammer until I felt high with sexual tension. Clothes were a nuisance if you asked me, and I was ready to strip right then and there to make that sexy raven suck my cock.

Gold and I rolled once, now on the bar completely, him pinned beneath me in a puddle of alcohol as various lights danced across us to the beat of a song. A long trail of saliva parted our lips as he tried to throw me off again. We both were so wrapped up and angry we didn't even notice that the bartender and barmaid were trying to shove us away from their beloved drink hoses, and the strippers had stopped their groping in order to watch our show. We suddenly became the center of attention.

"I'll fuck you till you die." I clawed at Gold's ragged tanktop, gnawing on his lower lip and hoping to Arceus that no one had a camera phone out at the moment. Actually a video of this would probably make me millions… but…. Nahh, it wasn't worth it. Blood tasted like precious metal in my mouth as the boy—he wasn't even eighteen yet—manhandled me into slipping away once again.

I kicked at least three or four very expensive bottles of Jack Daniels over, thanking my lucky stars at the moment because Lance had bought this place out for the night and he would be paying for all the beverages that no one could put a name to. Gold flailed like a very sexy magikarp beneath me, snarling and spitting and sweating bullets as our dicks pulsated together with the mix of clothes.

"Gold!" an angry voice broke through our hot fight for dominance, and I felt a sudden tug on my hair, yanking me away with little strength—but enough. I hissed at the pain, dethatching myself from the rooky trainer with the sex ridden eyes in return for a long sweeping length of foxy red hair. Silver looked completely hurt, jealous, and ready to cry as his lover righted himself off the bar and calmed the staff down.

I snorted as Gold kicked me in the back as if this whole thing was my fault. The two of us stood awkwardly for a second, shaking slightly as the redhead revealed something much more crucial to me. Falkner, in a moment of weakness, cocking his smartass little eyebrow up at me, and then turned to Silver with a gentle hand and cupped his neck. Me and Gold lurched forward almost instantaneously, but far too late to miss the flash of tongue between our lovers.

Shit. I was not going to lose this game. Gold and I. Falkner and Silver.

I would dominate them all…

…

~Falkner~

It wasn't easy to admit defeat when I was sober… but surely it felt good to let go when I was drunk.

Silver and I fell over one another, breathing heavily as the taste of vodka scorched our throats and made it harder to function.

"Oh fuck… Silver what the fuck." I cursed absent mindedly, guzzling more water—though it was almost inevitable that I would have a hangover tomorrow.

"Gold has him pinned." Silver said curtly, looking at our two from across the dance floor. Me and the two rooky trainers had all taken a seat in one of the empty, small booths lined with dark red velvet and squishy pillows, only to find ourselves concerning my love life. I told them all about Morty, his quirks, his horniness, the way he often acted like he was going to rape me. Silver was fearful of my health while Gold had been quite angry that Morty was behaving so rudely tonight.

I said it was my fault of course, having overreacted in slapping Morty. I knew I shouldn't have done that to him, and yet it had felt so good in a bad way. Slapping Morty had been a release of all the built up emotions I had for him after all this time. It was as if I was getting back at him for all those times he made me want to rip my hair out. Morty was the sweetest, sexiest asshole I knew, but that didn't mean he had a right-of-passage to do whatever he wanted. He was selfish, hard to please, and… my best friend.

Gold, upon hearing my emotions through alcohol, made an attempt to cheer me, first with humor and then by taking charge. The dark haired trainer was not often one to give a shit, but when it concerned his friends, he said "I don't play around". The words warmed me slightly, and while my emotions were so much more heightened I felt s a lump rise in my throat of affection. It was good to have friends like Gold and Silver.

That didn't make up for Morty though…

"I can't believe…" I whispered, shaking the previous thoughts away and turning my attention back to what Silver had pointed out.

Gold had only just gotten to Morty when the ghost trainer grabbed him and started dry humping him to no end. It was the single most painful and maddening thing I had ever seen, since secretly I was rooting for Gold to pin him and knock down Morty's defensive walls. On the other hand though, seeing what Morty could do in just a moment… straddling, gripping, sucking, licking, humping, furiously nuzzling… it all just overwhelmed me. At one point I actually felt bad for Gold.

"Are you mad?" I asked Silver, since he was so dead set on Gold losing to Morty that it put pain in his eyes.

"I—I don't want… Gold… I want him to love me." Silver trembled. "I—I wish I could make him jealous."

The alcohol spoke in my voice. "Aww… Silver, then let's do something about it."

"Like what?" Silver did not push me away or wait for an answer, but rather melted into the way my hand touched the back of his neck softly, stroking his foxy hair away from his jaw and kissing him with a spectacular delicacy. His tongue was nothing like Morty's. It was soft, gentle, and even hesitant in its stroking. Silver made me look like the rash one, and I felt as though I was moving at a turtwig pace.

"Mmmn…" Silver made out with me for a long moment, me holding his face to mine and switching positions back and forth so that if he really wanted to take over he could have. I gave Silver ever opportunity to take the reins and yet he was pleasantly surprised to stay below me as everything blurred over.

My mind was fading in and out, losing a battle against alcohol and sudden, numbing exhaustion. I slumped into Falkner, wishing his arms would come around me and hold me so that I could at least pretend it was Morty.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed together, wrapped up in a mass of tangles legs and jackets, softly murmuring unconscious things to each other, looking as if we actually did care. Anyone abstemious here would think that we were a couple. Like Red and Green, our sudden affection was gentle and sweet.

Only I didn't want marry Silver. I didn't want anything more than mild friendship with the redhead, and the way he stroked my hair told me he agreed. He was lonely and waned Gold, Morty and I weren't even speaking at the moment… it was a recipe for disaster. I didn't doubt that.

Of course our little schmooze session was nothing in comparison to the numerous glass-shattering, heated thrust bestowed upon Gold and the ghost trainer I loved. A crowd had started to form around them now, and I could see where the two dominated the bar together while attempting to dominate one another. Morty pinned Gold, Gold pinned Morty… I could hardly tell who was who anymore, so I nudged Silver to look for me.

Silver groaned as if he was in pain, whimpering as tears threatened to spill over his name-sake eyes.

"D—don't cry." I wiped the moisture from his cheeks and then shuffled along the booth until my feet found the ground. Reaching out I took his hand. "Come on… We can play dirty too."

"B—but Falkner…" Silver couldn't find his voice as I shoved my way through the crowd around our lovers.

A flash of hate grew across the young trainers face as we grew closer and the finer details of Morty and Silver grew to our lazy eyes. Silver coughed once, angry and fighting emotion as we stopped below the bar counter.

"Gold!" Silver yowled in despair, causing the two to flip away from each other as I stood just behind the suddenly furious redhead. His heart and temper both fit his hair color perfectly. Passion and fire to create a blazing Silver. I liked it.

Flinching as Gold kicked Morty harshly, I met the ghost trainers eyes, losing the crowd in a space of nothing. The sounds seemed to fade as an apology—a very crude one—lingered in his eyes. I didn't know whether to be mad or not, but I didn't feel pleasant in the slightest. Gold's crotch was wet from Morty's mouth groping, and it looked shiny over the leather in such a way that I actually imagined Gold with a vagina for a second, having female turn-on problems rather than male. Of course the boner that was pushing through the unzipped zipper and revealing his silver boxers slightly told otherwise.

Silver touched my arm as the two looked at us, and in the same moment I turned, unfaithful and damning alcohol for making me so restless. Silver and I kissed easily, slipping our tongue into one another with wide, wet lips parted. Gold gasped, Morty snarled, and before I had the chance to even breathe the four of us where wrapped up together, spilling over and onto the dirty club floor.

Morty—or was it Gold?—pinned me there with his hands undoing the clasps on my belt feverishly. It was definitely Morty, I knew now by the hot familiar smell in my sinuses. I laid there helplessly, eyes lolling as Silver—trying to get back at Gold—leaned in and grabbed a fistful of Morty's hair, pulling the dangerous man into a snarling fight above me. Silver's ass wound up in my face while the two were completely on top of me, Silver arched backwards so that his hair tickled my nose as it fell in long bloody waves. I shook violently, unprepared for Gold—who was halfway undressed and sex crazed—kissed me and then his lover and then bite Morty under the jaw.

Silver was dragged off of me then giving me the chance to engage in this wonderful four-way make-out session that involved all of our tongues and hands groping together. Someone's hand was in my backpocket, another squeezing my balls together harshly—that was probably Morty. I could feel two tongues slipping in and out of my mouth, as well as the fact that somehow Gold's dick had slipped out and was now in my grasp.

The dark haired trainer grunted and shuddered, unable—or simply not wanting to—control himself any longer. Silver straddled him while my fist pumped the thick, long cock, bumping Silver's ass as I did so. The two gasped, Gold jackhammering upwards into Silver and my hand.

"O—OH FU—

Gold went stiff, losing himself in the shape of Silver's jeaned ass and my hand. He came as I pumped him, flicking long strands of milky white onto Silver's tailbone, Morty's mouth—which had been suffocating his balls beneath the leather that still clung to his hips—and my wrist. It was a fountain, spitting more and more as he bucked and heaved, yanking on Silver's hair. Morty pulled back then, kneeling over the tangled mess and kissing me with Gold cum stained lips.

I was lifted, pulled over the two rivals as Morty calmed down, finally, wrapping his arms around me and only me suddenly. It felt like I was the only person in the world, and I knew he was sorry. For everything… not just shoving Jasmine tonight.

"GET OUT!"

The four of us had broken apart into couplets within an instant, though Gold was in no condition to satisfy Silver any further. I collapsed with Morty, in the middle of the disgusting dance floor and let my eyes loll back.

"I love you."

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Lance roared, having finally caught up with the actions. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU COST US IN ALCOHOL?"

"Fuck." Morty breathed a rasp of a sigh. "Mr. Suck my dick and kiss my ass…"

"GET OFF MY DANCE FLOOR AND GET THE FUCK OUT!" He shrieked, embarrassed by the look of his reddened face. Suddenly the music cut away, and after so long of hearing nothing but bass, there was a numb ringing in my ears. I shivered, pushing up and using Morty as a post to help me. He teetered up at my side, grunting softly at the eyes boring in on us. Clair howled with laughter, storming up beside Lance and… shit.

She whirled on him, cackling, yanking her arm back and then landing the hardest blow I had ever seen to his dick.

Who punches someone in the dick?

Every male in the club—even the foreign strippers—lurched forward hissing, imagining the pain that Lance must have felt streaking through his lower half. Morty shut his eyes, knowing that no man could be so drunk and NOT be hard, and then coming to terms with the fact that your dick was ten times more sensitive when you were.

Clair dropped to her knees laughing, punching the ground in near hysterics as Lance keeled over, moaning in agony.

Gold was still on the ground, breathing heavily as Silver tried to tuck his cock back into his leather pants before anyone else would notice it being out.

"Come on man!" Bugsy bent beside the dragon master, shaking his shoulder roughly. "Hang in there! Do you need an ambulance?"

Morty cracked a smile, shaking silently with laughter because this was no doubt the single most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. He loved seeing Lance in pain. Loved it like he loved to make out with four hot guys at once and taste their body fluids.

I flinched, realizing that tonight was far beyond over, and that if there was any hope for humanity we would have to leave now.

"Let's go." I jabbed Morty in the side, all but forgotten about our quarrel.

He nodded, surprised and pleased suddenly. Lance being knocked off his pedestal was exactly what this party needed. Even Red and Green were snickering from a little ways off, looking flushed as if they had just engaged in their own private little sex party. Red barely smiled, but Green was beaming with amusement.

"My house or yours?" Morty asked lazily as we stepped over Lance. I reached out to give Clair a swift high five in the same motion.

"Mine." I said at once, wanting my bed almost as much as I wanted some aspirin.

"By Falkner!" Gold smiled sheepishly, finally sitting up with Silver though his golden eyes still reflected pure, natural ecstasy. Silver waved farewell, not sure how to end this night despite what had happened. He didn't look happy, but surely not as upset as he was before. "My Morty!" Gold blew the ghost trainer a sloppy kiss that left a spot of blood in the palm of his hand. Those two must have torn each other apart…

"Fuck, I'm so glad no one will remember this tomorrow." Morty snorted as we made our way through the club doors again.

We were struck by the sudden cold night air on us, snowflakes twirling around us as the Indigo Plateau was far too close to Mt. Silver for this time of year. I yawned halfway, being interrupted with a hiccup and the way Morty's hand grasped mine.

We walked together, silently as if nothing had happened, knowing that this was all just one crazy night that would be put behind us eventually. My heart began to race anyways, and while I knew I couldn't take the time to worry about what my father would think of me in a moment like this… I was thankful for the unexpected distraction.

"Did you hear that?" Morty asked in a slurred voice. "Sounded like someone panicking…"

I listed, but unable to hear anything other than Morty and the ringing in my ears. "No…" I mumbled, unsure of what to think.

"I—It must be'mm… sex." Morty shook his foggy head and pulled me along again. Personally I thought that he was far too into sex to have it on his mind so often. I scowled softly at him, though lovingly and full of blistering affection.

"I love you." I mumbled. "I'm sorry." Though I was beginning to forget all about what I had done to feel sorry over.

"I love you." Morty answered back. "I—dammit what the fuck is that noise?"

"It's nothing." I waved him off. "You're ears."

He snorted in response.

"I love you."

"I want you." He countered. "But not tonight… I want to remember you when we do it."

I sighed, content but strangely still flustered within my southern regions. Morty could have taken advantage of me tonight, very easily, and he was proving himself worthy of being somewhat understanding.

"Oh here." He reached into his jacket pocket. "Before I forget."

I was handed a crumpled up note, dropping it once in the frosty grass and then bending to pick it up sluggishly. I blinked under the light of a streetlamp, peering at the messy words I could barely make out.

iI neeed him. Falkner. I LOvE him. I hope he finds this note. I, I, I. fuck. Its all about me. Well I love him. Sweetheart is BEAutiful. He is everything I want. Ilove him. Shit. strikeI nee/strike does he need me?/i

A shiver rolled up my spine, leaving a trail of emotions as I read it over and over again, not sure if I truly comprehended or not. I swallowed though, and looked at Morty who leaned in softly to kiss me, as if he wasn't drunk at all and just wanted to be a nice boyfriend.

I kissed him back gently, my ears parting from the ringing just for a moment to hear my heart beating in my chest and a shrill, piercing wail a little ways off.


	41. Chapter 41

~Falkner~

My eyes cracked open to a shallow light, held in the crook of Morty's shoulder and arm and breathing lightly as he was finally feeling better.

It was two days since the party and Morty had suffered a brutal hangover that left his head suspended over the toilet for about six hours the morning we woke up together. I was thoroughly displeased by the retching dry heaves he had, but had to deal with it since every time he took in any liquid his body rejected it within minutes. Morty was nearly dead for Arceus sake, cursing to himself when the tile floor of my bathroom was too cold to lie on any longer. However I refused to let him in any parts of my house where there was carpet—which was pretty much everywhere else. Secretly I had always been a little afraid of people vomiting, I don't know why, but I knew it made me feel claustrophobic, especially when you could smell it.

And not only did Morty stayed locked up in my bathroom for half a day, but I forced him to clean it himself when he was sure that the violent puking was over. He was pissed at this of course, but proved plenty strong enough with a little motivation. I told him we could shower together—JUST shower—when he was done.

Only for some strange reason he refused to shower with me in my house, which was the strangest thing ever in comparison to his previous actions. I wanted to demand what was so wrong with my home, but of course I held my tongue for as long as he was staying here.

I couldn't admit it to myself, but it was quite nice having someone else to be around. Things felt utterly lonely around here sometimes, especially at night when the birds slept and nightmares kept me up. In fact the last two nights had been the first in a long time that I had gone without a dream to remember at all. There was not a doubt in my mind that it was the ghost trainers doing. With his arms around me… I felt safe.

Morty snored softly next to me, a single arm wrapped around my middle and limp as he slept through the hours of morning daylight. He was never a morning person to begin with, but after being sick the last two days I understood to let him be. Not to mention he was clean now and smelt like my shampoo (and his hair was sleek and beautiful because of it). I appreciated just how tender this moment was, and tried to hold onto it as long as I could—though inevitably I had to pee.

And unfortunately the peace wouldn't last in my household since I had thirty or so hungry birds to feed and one very angry pidgey that was demanding his routine pancakes—yes I fed that bird pancakes. I was forced to get up, making Morty murmur softly in his sleep as I moved, careful not to wake him and met Zephyr with a faint thud as he flew into my chest, pecking my throat out with the pancake mix powder all over his face.

"What the hell did you do!?" I hissed at him, shutting my bedroom door behind me softly. He couldn't open his beak and was spazzing out because of it. Looking closer I could see that he had gotten into the honey out in the backyard, and as I entered the kitchen I could see where he had torn a hole through the box of powder batter.

Zephyr screamed silently, shaking his head madly and flapping his wings. I grabbed a hold of him tightly, holding the sticky ball of feathers away from me as I slid the back door open with my hip and elbow. It was a terribly cold December morning, brisk and already snowing, which made my exposed skin crawl for warmth. My bare feet froze to the patio, stunned suddenly by bird call of—joy?

My hands lost their grip on Zephyr, allowing the bird to scramble up to my shoulder. I could only just breathe as I stared out across my backyard, through the cold winter wonderland that it was turned into. The pond was frozen over now, the trees bare and pale with cold, their everlasting branches holding hands with each other as the tree house was built so precisely in the way of their natural growth pattern. Everything was beautiful this morning, even the sky was bright despite the white fluffy clouds.

But not one of these things was what had stopped me in my tracks. It was the fact that every bird I gave sanctuary here was flocking around one large, charcoal colored warrior that had finally come home—long after I assumed he was dead.

"PRIDE!" I gasped as Zephyr—even him—launched himself from my shoulder to greet the powerful Staraptor.

I felt like I had wings I was so happy. I wanted to fly over to him like the rest of the birds, but my numb feet would never do such a thing. Stumbling through the snow, emotions swelling in my chest as the bird raised its head in my direction, sporting a large patch of pink fleshy skin where his feathers had been torn and a scar had grown over his neck.

I choked on happiness, parting the sea of over-excited birds to reach my warrior.

"Pride!" I sobbed like a child—unable to hold back as I had been pushing away the emotions for so long now. I had assumed the bird was dead for my own benefit, trying to move on like my Father would have made me had he been alive. It was this defying belief that had gotten me to somewhat leave the memories behind at the Lake of Rage where I had initially lost the bird do to my own failures and irrationality.

Mama Bird pressed her face to Pride's shoulder, nudging him happily and then running her course old feathers across me as well. She pulled her wings up, ruffling them with relief as Zephyr rolled on the floor, completely speechless—though not by choice—with wide beady eyes. The honey still held his beak tight.

Jake was shaking with rolling emotions, holding his wings up in both excitement and disbelief. The sensitive Swellow was by far the most overwhelmed of the birds.

"Wh—where have you been?" I couldn't pretend to be tough now, I was totally sappy over this bird, or any bird! I hugged Pride around the neck, feeling his beak graze my back as he pulled me into his shape tighter. He made a low, rumbling croon, signaling that he was happy to be back.

I hadn't the first clue what to think about all the time that had gone by, and how my bird could have healed on his own from the wounds he had… but I knew I didn't want to. All I wanted was to know that I would have these birds to love me forever, as I would them. This was a moment of weakness I was having, crying to my feathered family out of pure and utter joy. It stung in my chest, making my eyes foggy and my stomach twist this way and that.

"Oh Pride… Pride…" I hid my face in the birds feathers, sighing and sniffling. "Are you ok?"

He huffed softly, holding his head up as if to say that nothing could ever damage him that badly. He was such a fighter… such a respectable bird to begin with. There was so much hope brought back into my life so suddenly. Because this bird returned I wouldn't have to worry about losing gym battles as much—not that I'd had any challengers recently—and I didn't have to worry about the flock falling apart without structure. Even the antisocial pidgeotto that grouped together in the trees had come over to appreciate the return of their leader.

"Falkner…"

A voice, a very rough voice actually, whispered in the breeze past my ear. I jolted around, nostalgia hitting me like a truck.

"Dad?"

Mama Bird nudged me, perhaps thinking that I had gone crazy. But I knew I hadn't.

"Dad!" I yelled this time, face still pressed into Pride as I was afraid to look over my shoulder and know that no one was going to be there. It would be the same snow-filled yard that it was a moment ago, and I knew that no matter how much I believed or didn't believe in spirits, my father would not be there to scold me for being ridiculous. He didn't believe in ghosts when he was alive, so how could he be a ghost when he died?

Flustered and confused and overwhelmed I breathed, shivering in the snow and wondering what I was ever going to do. My father said my name. It was that simple, and why wouldn't he? He would be happy as well that Pride returned home, though nothing of the hot mess I was now. He would have been composed on the outside, thrilled on the inside. Unlike me who was overflowing in every which way possible.

It was a long time before I could officially right myself and actually think straight again. I was just so damn relieved it hurt. Physically my chest was pumping with needle sharp pains, and as the Pidgeotto started to scatter and Zephyr was painting heavily from the fight with the honey on his face, I forced myself to stand and face the day beyond this moment.

Pride stayed beneath the oak tree as I turned and scooped Zephyr up into my arms, intending to wash his face off as I had before wanting to throw him outside for causing trouble. I cuddled the prickly little bird as I turned to go back towards me house, one arm smudging away the tears.

"I—I'm so happy." I blinked, suddenly realizing that Pride was not the only reason why. There was the fact that Morty was with me, waiting on the insides of my walls asleep and peaceful, and that I had three very good friends that had all called me the other day to make sure I was still alive after the party. Sure Clair had been demanding I tell her what happened between her and Lance—she didn't remember punching him in the balls—and Gold had been wondering if I would give him his barrowed clothes back, but it still felt like friendship.

And Pride had come home… Morty was here… the region showed no sign of team Rocket since the day at the Lake.

I made a list in my head of all the good things that were happening to me rather than all the bad. I was not usually a negative person but lately it seemed that was the gist of it all. This change was exactly what I needed to look at the brighter side of things.

It was only eight O'clock by the time I righted myself enough to fill the bird feeders in the back and give Pride a thorough look-over. He had one nasty scratch from what I assumed was a raticate, and it looked infected, but other than that the bird had healed his sprained wing on his own. I knew this was probably the reason why he had taken so long to make it home. Birds can't fly with one wing after all.

Zephyr got a painful scrub down before I flitted into my kitchen and made him his damn pancakes so he would shut up. The bird poked at them in distaste at first, beginning the argument we got into pretty much every other morning—or whenever I made these unhealthy flat disks. He wanted loads of syrup, and while threatening to peck a hole through the bottle I hadn't the choice but to give in. He sat happily after that, eating the stick food with an obvious grin on his face while I started to clean things up.

The gym doors were open by ten, but I knew no one would show up, so I began few chores such as dumping hot water off the slick ice covered patio out back. I was constantly in and out of the yard all day, and didn't intend to fall and break my ass over a little snow. I checked the heater in the tree house carefully once again, knowing that it was irrational to think it would go out so suddenly. My father used to tell me that the birds were used to the cold winters and even if it did go out they would be fine, but I was much too nice to them. Besides, Mama Bird deserved only the best, and since she was too large to be comfortable in my home for any length of time, this was the best I could do.

By eleven I was already showered and content, sipping on hot chocolate and flipping through boring television channels with Zephyr curled up at my side looking plump. He really was getting fat… almost as quickly as I was losing interest in the poor entertainment selection. Eventually I turned the thing off and pushed myself up off the couch to check on Morty.

My door liked to squeal at the top of its lungs everything you opened it, so by the time I was halfway in, squeezing through the crack and trying to be quiet, Morty's head had already turned to the side with a snort.

"It's eleven O'clock, Sleeping Beauty." I whispered more to myself than anything, imagining for a short moment what Morty would look like with longer hair. Maybe I got my fairy-tales mixed up, but someone had incredibly long golden locks right? There was no room for classic stories in this household, so I wasn't sure, but I envisioned it anyways, deciding that he would look like Silver only less attractive. Morty couldn't pull off hair longer than what he had now, especially since it was such a drab blond color.

I crawled into the bed next to him, running a hand through his unruly mop as he grunted and scrunched his face up in distress.

"Sex or sleep, you pick." Morty muttered, his lids flickering to reveal lazy lilac eyes.

"Don't you have a gym to take care of?" I asked softly.

"Rude." He turned slightly, wrapping his arm around me. "Why don't you just kick me out?"

"No—no!" I smiled softly. "I didn't mean I wanted you to leave. I just wanted to make sure you weren't missing anything important."

"Well I am." He hummed sarcastically. "I have a hot date with a foxy redhead."

"Are you still bitter?" I teased, knowing that Morty had wanted to punish me the last two days because all he remembered about the party was showing up and me kissing Silver. "I told you, the four of us all… made out together and… you started it with Gold anyways."

"I don't remember it." Morty refused to believe as such. "It didn't happen."

I wanted to tell him to call any one of the gym leaders who had been there to ask them what he had done, and that they would tell him exactly the same thing I did. It was a shame all the other gym leaders would be having their own memory problems as well. It wasn't an accurate audience because of that. I was actually amazed that I remembered everything that happened that night—both the good and the bad and the sexual.

"We made Gold cum… did I tell you that?" I mused, looking up at my lazy ceiling fan above us. It hadn't moved more than one complete turn in over ten seconds. There really was no point in having ceiling fans during the winter, but because this room had little circulation without it I preferred to let it go leisurely.

"Shit Falkner." Morty shook his head slowly. "There is a reason why alcohol takes your memory…"

"You sucked his dick."

"Stahp it!" He groaned, knowing damn well that he most certainly WOULD suck Gold's dick in that occasion. He just didn't want to believe it really happened.

"He came in your mouth Morty." Ok, I admit it; I was torturing him a little.

Morty groaned. "I'll cum in your mouth if you don't shut up soon."

I laughed softly, snuggling into his chest and feeling unbelievably good. Not even his sex threats bothered me at the moment.

"D—didn't you get even a little jealous?" He asked after a moment, not looking at me but closing his eyes as if he was concentrating on something.

I shook my head with a sigh. "My father used to tell me that being jealous meant you were insecure… so I try to avoid it. A—and he used to say that real gentlemen makes other… women… jealous of his, rather than trying to make his jealous of them."

Morty's eyes narrowed at me suspiciously. "You're father was a smart man…"

"What's that look for?" I defended mildly.

"What look?"

"That look. Like you're only saying that because you know it's what I want to hear."

"Not what iyou/i want to hear…" He looked away again.

"What? That doesn't even make sense?" I countered stubbornly.

"Nothing." He sniffed inadvertently. "You never answered my question for before by the way."

I frowned. "What question?"

His sharp violet eyes gleamed up at me, flickering in the dreary snowy light coming in through the window behind the shades. He smiled a sleepy grin and hugged me closer. "Sex or sleeping. You pick."

"Nice try."

"I'm serious."

"Well I choose neither."

He grunted. "You are so weird… you claim to have had a four-way make out session at a party with dozens of people watching, and yet you won't have sex with me… just the two of us together."

"I was drunk and sex is a lot more to handle than making out."

"So you will make out with me at least?" He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth pleadingly.

I shook my head, feeling slightly arrogant. "Nope."

"Dammit!" He growled, suddenly flipping me onto my back and rolling to be centered on top of me. "Yes you will." His handsome face peered down at me, eyes devilish and mouth taut.

I grinned. "Oh alright I guess…"

He returned the smile genuinely, perhaps feeling a sense of my happiness on this chilly morning, and leaning down with careful accuracy to place his soft lips against mine. The very slight feel of stubble from his chin scratched at me lovingly since he hadn't shaved since the day of the party. I didn't truly mind, but thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't cursed with awkward navy blue facial hair. My skin had and most likely always would be baby soft.

We kissed pleasantly for only a moment or so before Morty attempted to deepen it with tongue. I would have let him too, since lately I had been completely content with the feeling of being loved. The only problem was the fact that certain other annoying little birdies were not so accepting of the affection directed at me.

Zephyr attacked Morty's head with loud screeching noises, flapping his wings as he tried to plant his talons into the windblown hair that resembled a nest after a long restless night.

"Fuck off!" Morty smacked the pidgey away with a snort. "What the hell bird. Are you jealous?"

I laughed wholeheartedly. "Well you know Morty…"

"What?" He scowled at the fat Pidgey first, as it rolled onto its feet and gave up because he was too lazy to climb or fly back up to the top of the bed.

I pecked him softly on the cheek. "Gentlemen make others jealous of their lovers rather than making their lovers jealous of others."

He rolled his eyes at me.

"What?"

"Have sex with me."

"No."

His head flopped against mine in defeat.

"You may have won his battle Sweetheart, but I do intend to win the war…"


	42. Chapter 42

~Morty~

Never in my wildest dreams did I think a night at the bar would bring Falkner and I any justice, but apparently it did, because since that night almost a week ago the two of us had been closer than ever. So close that I literally almost had sex with him sixteen times. ALMOST. Because he was still so damn stubborn about the whole ordeal, for what reason I didn't know.

I was so distracted by Falkner this past week that I hadn't barely a moment to breathe alone, not that I was complaining… but just that I was completely content with being at his house, and that frightened me. It seemed Falkner's father had disappeared for a short amount of time; perhaps too homophobic to stand our obvious love for each other. It was understandable for Walter Hayato to be suspicious and disapproving of someone like me loving his son, but when the tables were turned I couldn't imagine that he was proud of himself for "failing". Thing is, he was dead and couldn't do a damn thing to change his son's mind.

Falkner hadn't seemed until the first night we were sober after the party, and even then it was only him hearing things in the middle of the night. He claimed to have had a bad dream but I knew that if Walter was sending him the dreams he would have been much more clear to me, rather than seemingly far away in the little household. I got the feeling that Falkner's father was trying to let Falkner love someone, but at the same time, trying to cope with the fact that that someone would never be a female, and that their precious bird raising bloodline wouldn't go much further.

Yesterday, after four days of enduring no sex but plenty of teasing, Falkner insisted I go home because he thought it was cruel to leave my ghost pokemon any longer—especially that Marshmellow of a candle that was probably loads of lonely and sad melting wax. I agreed after hours of demanding, and left in a blur, deciding that I would at the very least make the best of my time away from my Sweetheart.

Christmas was in no less than a week, and even though I had known—and ordered—what I planned on getting Falkner a while ago, it was now a crucial time to pick it up.

I had never bought anyone a gift before, and I was surprised by just how good it felt. Simply thinking about the look on Falkner's face when he would see it made my heart fly. It was all sorts of fluffy, cuddly, and stupid emotions that me feeling like I wasn't me anymore. Of course it didn't last though, because upon finding Falkner in my house the day before I was supposed to retrieve this gift, I had jumped his gun and made him jizz his pants with my mouth alone. It was perhaps the most hilarious thing I had ever seen when he was so embarrassed he reached for a lit candle to chuck at my head. The only problem was it hadnt been a candle at all—it had been my litwick that went sailing across the room. The whole thing had seemed tragic until I realized that the pokemon had completely enjoyed the flight.

Falkner tried his best to be a PMSing chick for the rest of that day, but I had agreed to making it up to him by helping break that bird, Renegade, which had been completely unreasonable under such circumstances. We hadn't tried in a while, but despite the hell that bird put us through, no hands were put in casts so it was sort of a success. Late that same night Falkner and I talked, holding hands under the black comforter in my bedroom and listening to each other breathe. We had talked about future plans and how much Falkner dreamed of being like his father. It was kind of endearing… in a strange way.

By morning he was out, long before I had even gotten up, leaving me with nothing but a text message saying he gone home to catch up on chores and do some running. This was saddening at first, but I knew had he been here I wouldn't have been able to get away to get his gift.

I walked now, through the quiet and quaint town of Ecruteak to the train station where imported pokemon were often dropped off. It was just outside of the precious little history landmark that was now the burned tower, and it was also one of the nostalgic places I had been with Falkner at.

"Morty! Morty! Leader MORTY!"

A sudden, high pitched shriek called out to me, gasping as I turned solemnly, a scowl on my face to see a very short, but somehow still lean girl running up to me. My chest tightened at the sight, surprised with how… utterly ragged and yet so pristine she looked. My mind whirred back to a time and place just like this, when I had been at these train tracks receiving my stupid little marshmellow pokemon by force because the other gym leaders thought it was about time I trained again.

I stared down at the girl, seeing as though her eyes were enormous and bright beyond a pair of also enormous glasses. One lens was all the way popped out, and the other had a narrow crack in it. Her face was dirty and dust colored, her pale skin flushed and irritated from the heavy snowfall.

"Excuse me." She said politely. "B—but I can't find my mother…"

It hit me hard then, square in the chest like a ton of bricks as out of nowhere a spirit tackled me. Not literally, but they sent the hair on the back of my neck raising and my skin crawling. It was nothing of the normal, sluggish pace at which ghosts tended to move; it was the polar opposite being fast and hard and utterly painful as the little girl with the large glasses and odd dark purple hair peered up at me.

"Y—you can help me right?" she blinked. "Y—you ca—can see her."

Her mother was just a manifestation, a watermark beyond the girl's shoulders. But she was right… I could see her mother, the spitting image of her daughter but without the glasses or rounded eyes. I blinked, suddenly remembering that the last time I had been here I met this child and her mother had been ialive/i. My eyes narrowed at the two of them, completely surprised that such a young child was capable of structure here and now. It was strangely familiar.

"Well can't you see her?" I asked, bending at the girl's side. "What is your name?"

"Shauntal…" she told me in a small voice. "And I can't…"

This was no sudden change of plans in my picking up Falkner's Christmas gift, but I suddenly felt overwhelmed by the pressing emotions from the woman that stood tall and strong behind her daughter. She was unnoticed, and the hurt in her eyes was pleading. Such an intelligent spirit that belonged to such a smart young girl. I looked at them both, understanding the message between their eyes as the daughter grew wary of my silence.

"Why can't I?" she squeaked. "Morty… I—I know she's here. She—She was hit by a train b—b—but she never left… I know it."

I blinked in surprise. "Y—you saw your mother get killed?"

Shauntal nodded, her dark pink eyes low and careful. "Everyone knows you talk to ghosts… right Morty? C—can you see her?"

I was torn… torn between knowing that a girl like this had seen probably one of the most horrific things possible; her mother being hit by train, and knowing that she was far too smart not to see through my pretense. I was stunned as she reached out and touched the burnt ends of my scarf—they had been charred and mangled ever since the fire at the Brass tower.

"Y—you have a story to tell don't you?" Shauntal asked. "Everyone does… but i—I can't tell my story without my mother…"

"Honey, you're not making any sense." I whispered.

"Can you see her?" she peered at me through her cracked and broken glasses. "I have to know… The orphanage is going to take me to Unova tomorrow… and I have to know."

Such a smart girl… such… impressive vocabulary. It seemed as though she had grown ten years since the last time I saw her and returned her to her mother when she had gotten lost in the crowds. I couldn't even believe my ears as she murmured quietly, so confident with herself, as if she was reading a perfect script in her mind. I could barely get any words out myself.

"I—I can." I said this while looking overhead at the mother figure, who nodded respectfully at me, not saying anything as she was terrified of losing her railroad tracks child to Unova.

"How!" She shrieked again, abruptly proving quite bipolar in her volume. "I—I don't see her… But I see everything else…" as she spoke her eyes swelled with tears. "Teach me… tell me!"

"I can't teach you."

"Please…" bubbling, large tears flooded her pale cheeks as she said to me. Her broken sobs where nothing if not inappropriate to her age. She sounded more like a young adult trapped in a child's body.

I didn't understand this child in the slightest, and I wasn't sure whether to call an orphanage now and let them handle her obvious distress, or try and be understanding while I could. It was obvious she had some afterlife connection to her mother, most likely from watching her die so ruthlessly. I stared up at the guardian ghost, fright in her faded eyes.

She was one hell of a woman, tall and busty and very sharp. She looked intelligent, well dressed and well raised as her shoulders were back and her head was held high. It was an easy way to show just how much she cared about her daughter, while still sporting the grieving. She showed that she understood; that she was not just a looped video playing over and over again like the ghosts that once lived in the Brass Tower.

"Y—you're selfish." Shauntal snapped me out of eye connection with the woman she could not but so desperately wanted to see. "You only care about yourself!"

"That's not true." I hissed, even though it was quite true.

"You can see her..."

"You need guidance." I countered, feeling like I was looking at my past reflection in female form. Alone, frightened, angry. However it was an unspoken rule not to let anyone know the full potential of my abilities. I found it cruel to tell people about their loved ones being around them. Things happen for a reason after all, and I was no medium.

"I need my mother!" she turned then a whirled, about to run when I caught her shaking form by the arm and pulled her—she had to have been only five or six years old—form into me. I wasn't sure what I was doing, since this could be considered horrible pedophilia, to hug a child that you had no relation to.

"I grew up alone. I was in an orphanage. And I suffered because of the ghosts that haunted me." I said, pulling her up into my arms so that I stood with her hoisted up on my arm. She leaned against my shoulder in worry, surprised by my sudden actions. I really didn't know how to act like a father, but if there was anything that I had learned from Falkner talking about his dad, it was that tough love left the best impression.

"Wh—where are you taking me?" She shriveled into my form, unable to cope with the fact of losing her mother and knowing she was there but unable to see her.

"I'm taking you to the orphanage." I whispered. "But I'm not going to leave you alone."

"I- I don't want to go back there."

"Neither did I…"

She was silent after that, miserable as I carried her away from the train tracks her mother was murdered in. The woman followed as long as she could, walking right at my side, holding her head high but also crying with the fact that her daughter was being taken away. To Unova…

Her mother would forever be in this quaint town, stuck there as if chains had bound her to the property she died on. It was a terrible way to go, and a terrible place to live, but I vowed silently that I would come back to see the woman some time. I wouldn't be able to tell her about her daughter, since I wouldn't know how she was myself, but I could try and comfort her. At least Shauntal had a partner, at least she wasn't ialone/i.

Marshmellow, the weird little foreign Litwick I planned on sending to an orphanage this Christmas was also a native of Unova. I knew that under this circumstance it would fare better there anyways. Pokemon were always strongest in their homelands. And let's face it, Shauntal needed something. She needed closure. She needed a ghost to guide her and love her because without a family there was no one to do the job.

I walked the child nearly across town until she had fallen asleep on my shoulder, mentally exhausted and heavy in my arms as we approached the orphanage—the same one that I grew up hating life in.

The sound of the bell in the door made her awake, tilting her head up and revealing a soft pink splotch where her cheek had been resting. She visible slumped, her head freaking the hell out as I moved to set her on her bare feet. She looked utterly unhealthy under the bright fluorescent lights from above, making me wonder just how long she had been living by the train tracks alone. A few days at least.

The front desk of this damned place was a sight to see as it was, but upon ringing the little bell for someone, I was hit with a moment of pure nostalgic agony. As a child myself every bell that sounded meant some child was coming in, or some child was going out. While I was a loner, never talking to anyone but ghosts, it killed me to know others were sharing my fate. It also made me full of hate to know that no one ever came in thinking "oh, I want to adopt that creepy kid in the corner that talks to himself".

This was not the life I wanted any child to have, and it felt like someone was turning my own personal knife to know that I had brought a child here myself. For a moment I even considered adopting her myself, but then decided that I would be one shitty father. I didn't know that life…

Falkner would though. Falkner was perhaps the most responsible young adult I knew. He never thought about himself before others, and his patience was through the roof with that little shit, Zephyr. However it would be cruel to adopt a child—an enormous responsibility—and push that onto someone like him. His courtesy and love may only go as far as birds… I wouldn't ruin that. I was too selfish to ruin what we had together.

Shauntal held my pant leg as we stood waiting, her hand shaking and her head down. I slammed my hand down on the bell again, wanting this to over before guilt could eat me alive.

"Excuse me, sir? Yes! Good mo—

The lady came around the corner with a cheery fake grin. She was older, with small glasses perched too low on her large nose. Her eyes fell upon me in a moment, and I could tell she recognized me for what I was. Not the Ecruteak gym leader that talked to ghosts, but the hurt, angry child that inhabited her orphanage for eighteen years straight.

"Morty…" she placed her frail hand over her chest and inclined towards me. "Is that really you?"

"I found something of yours." I told her, stepping back to reveal Shauntal.

"Oh thank heavens!" it was instant relief as the older women came around the counter and dropped to give the girl a hug so tight I flinched.

"I—I want to leave her with a pokemon." I said as the roof grew thick with unfamiliar emotions. I didn't understand love in a sense of parent to child connection.

"Why?" The elderly lady asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. I could tell she was concerned about it being a ghost. Judging by who I was and my past experiences with ghosts I could say I blamed her either. For the first time I have happy that Litwick was of solid form rather than a ghost form. It could pass as just a fire type here.

"Every child deserves a partner." I told her, reaching to my belt and taking Litwick's ball swiftly. Normally I wouldn't have brought the pokemon with me, but for some odd reason today I had decided to. There really was no particular reason, but I understood now that this was it.

"Here." I set the ball in Shauntal's small hands and took a step back. "Open it."

"I—I don't know how."

"Click the button and drop it." I instructed, trying not to roll my eyes. Even orphans should know how to open a pokeball.

She did as I told and released a burst of charcoal smelling air as the litwick formed before her, a blob of confusion, glancing up and around as if it was expected to do a trick. Shauntal's eyes fell on it, and with little deliberation she bent and poked the thing in the side of its head.

"What is it?" the elderly lady asked me. "Is it dangerous?"

"If it was dangerous I would want to keep it for myself." I told her. "That thing is harmless. Look at it."

She shook her head at me. "You were always a strange one Morty…"

"That's Leader Morty to you." I turned my head down as she pat me on the shoulder, understanding that I would never truly like her just because I was that stubborn. Even at twenty two years old I held a grudge against this woman and everyone here that had tried to raise me and failed. I was a lost cause, they should have known that. I was a homosexual gym leader that liked to drink and thought about rape more than often—she had every right to dislike me.

She sighed, shaking her head at me. "Stubborn as always."

"Will take the pokemon?" I asked. "Let her keep it."

"Please let me keep him!" Shauntal picked the thing up in her arms, a new light to her dark pink eyes as they flickered in the glow of Litwick's harmless flame. It was not even hot until the pokemon was angry—and that pokemon was never angry.

"We—well I suppose…" The lady told her orphan, surprised by the sudden change in happiness. "But on one condition honey… you cannot run away anymore."

Shauntal nodded, completely forgotten about her dead mother at the train tracks—shit.

The train tracks!

"I'm sorry." I turned for the door, excusing myself. "I have something I need to do." I had completely forgotten about Falkner's gift.

"Wait!" Shauntal gripped my leg, tumbling after me and squishing Litwick happily between her and the floor. I bent in a hurry and helped her up.

"Thank you." She said to me. "I—ill take good care of him."

I nodded at her. "Good… and… be safe in Unova." I leant then to whisper in her ear. "So I can tell your mother you're ok."

She bit her lip and nodded at me, a quiet promise on her solemn little face.

I turned then, without a word and left, wondering why my heart ached at the thought of never seeing such a child again.


	43. Chapter 43

~Falkner~

Two days before Christmas a meeting was held for the gym leaders, and I felt even more nervous than the very first time I had to go to be recognized as a leader. None of us had talked to each other since the party, and even though it was almost certain that no one but me remembered just what kind of horrible things had happened, I knew it would be the talk of the night. Even more important than the apparent fact that gym inspections would be held after New Years and I was worried sick about the money it would cost to make things look nice.

There was a few broken beams in the stadium area of my gym, and different ladders that liked to topple over if whoever climbed them leaned back. This had happened to a trainer—the only trainer—that had come to my gym in the last week. It had been sickening to know that such a fall—it really wasn't that high—had caused her to turn tail and flee. I hoped for the next few days that she would come back, or at the very least not tell her friends about the hazards of "the bird trainers" gym.

Morty had given me three hundred dollars the other day… telling me that if I didn't use it he would just pay the handymen personally and let them invade my gym on their own. I absolutely hated the fact that I had to stoop so low as to borrow money; it was like an unspoken rule not to, especially since for the sake of my birds I couldn't pay him back any time soon. He said I didn't have to, and that I could repay him another way.

I told him no on sex, stubborn and trying to give him the money back as he was trying to stuff it down my pants. I had nearly cried at the time, just because I was so embarrassed with having no choice but to accept it. He still didn't get any sex, but we agreed on another thing to ease my pain a little.

Morty wanted the other gym leaders to know that I was his…

And so we walked into the Indigo Plateau this evening, two days before Christmas, holding hands and me wearing his scarf because I had been shivering cold. We were the first ones there besides Lance, who had nothing more than to walk down a hall to be in the meeting room, and he didn't question us as far as relationship status went. He did however ask if we knew why his dick had been bruised the day after the party, and I recoiled with a shaky laugh, saying that he had fucked Clair—his cousin (though not by blood).

After Lance almost wailing with tears and trying to stab himself with a fork that was set to the right of every dish around his long table—apparently we were all having Christmas dinner tonight—I told him that I was just kidding and that Clair had actually punched him in the balls because he was trying to kick me and Morty out for being too rough.

He said he vaguely remembered the two of us fist fighting on the floor with two other people, and even though his memory was playing tricks on him and we hadn't been FIST fighting… I let it go, hoping no one else would remember the event correctly and make me look like a liar. Morty was already pinching me under the table in hopes that I wouldn't be ashamed of telling the truth. I was regretting telling him in the first place.

Bugsy was second to come, followed by his enormous bug pokemon. It was not the lean, light green Scyther of before though, it was enormous and red like the Gyrados I had seen at the lake of rage. Its face was sleek and its bulbous hands snapping like separate heads.

"MY BB BUG EVOLVED!" Bugsy wailed, looking like a fangirl of such a pokemon. I couldn't help but smile in knowing that I now had Pride back, and that Pride could beat this Scizor based on handsomeness and strength along. Birds were far more attractive than bugs in every way shape and form.

"Congrats now put it away." Lance snorted. "We're having dinner tonight and I don't want any pokemon out."

Bugsy frowned. "I was hoping we would be in the gym… so we could do some battling practice."

"No." Lance shook his head, pointing at the empty chairs. "Pop a squat and tell me what you remember of the party."

Morty rolled his eyes, assuming that the only reason Lance cared at all was because he didn't want his reputation to be ruined.

"Where is everyone else?" Bugsy wondered after returning the bug pokemon. "And all I remember is slipping on the ice outside and then waking up with stitches in the back of my head."

"Late…" Lance grumbled. "You slipped?"

Bugsy nodded.

"Aren't you glad it's not us this time?" Morty grinned wickedly at the dragon tamer. "Usually Falkner and I are holding everyone up."

"Hey! I've never been late, only you have." I returned a pinch under the table, really hard through the material of my jeans.

Lance rolled his eyes back at us. "I'm going to find Clair."

"Don't get punched in the dick!" Morty called after him, making Bugsy look over in surprise.

"Clair punched him in the dick at the party." I explained.

"Oh…" Bugsy smirked. "He probably deserved it."

Morty and I both agreed quietly, me reaching across the table to snag a bread roll out of the basket that was sitting in the center. Lance would probably scold me and tell me to wait for everyone else, but the sight of food always endeared me to eat it right then and there. Not to mention I was always craving carbs; particularly bread.

Morty picked a piece off from my roll and ate it as well, him having not eaten anything today. I had already fed myself by the time he wound up on my doorstep earlier, and not wanting to get out of bed—after dragging me in bed—refused to eat anything even when his stomach snarled for mercy. I rolled my eyes at him as the few other gym leaders trickled into the room. Pryce arrived, folding his hands neatly in his lap and wishing us an early Merry Christmas. He also reached across the table and took bread, which made me less guilty.

Chuck came not a moment later, wearing a bright red Christmas hat that made him look ridiculous. Morty suggested sarcastically that he should play Santa at the mall in Olivine—since it was the closest mall to his town—and Chuck actually jumped at the idea. I felt bad for the kids that would have to sit on his lap.

Whitney came in singing merrily, wearing a long velvety Christmas dress and a white scarf around her neck. She sat on the other side of me and started babbling on about how her Miltank was pregnant—upon artificial insemination from a Hoenn breeder named River. I didn't like the idea of live, bloody birth, so I was scowling while Chuck congratulated her. Morty apparently didn't even know the Miltank was a female. But then again why would he?

Clair and Lance finally came back, arguing about what kind of wine to bring—red or white—and then settling on both because that was the simple and obvious decision. I vaguely remember Morty telling me he liked red wine, and upon popping the bottle I knew it wouldn't last long. I hated the way the stuff smelt, so I didn't try it.

"Where is Jasmine?" Lance asked Chuck and Whitney because they were the closest to her.

Neither knew, but since Lance was impatient today he decided to bring out the food anyways. It was a full on banquet—food that made my cooking look like shit. Everything was baked or broiled or sautéed and extremely fancy for my taste. Not to say I didn't like it, I was just daunted by it. Morty had preference to anything that was overly cooked or well done—extra dead in my opinion—and then he would make me try it all in the most embarrassing way.

"Taste it." Morty demanded halfway through the feast, eyes sparkling with mischief as the other gym leaders eyed us.

"No thanks." I insisted, sipping a glass of water.

"Dammit Falkner." He pushed a speared mushroom at me. "You can't be picky."

"It not that I'm picky, I just don't like the texture of mushrooms. They feel like meat when you chew them."

"That's being picky." He rubbed my thigh with his free hand under the table. "It's a texture thing now, what's next?"

Whitney was laughing softly to herself, Pryce rolling his eyes because he was far too old not to know a day and age when food like this was to be taken for granted. He said nothing as he took in spoonfuls of pea soup—something else I didn't fancy. Maybe I was picky…

"They're good Falkner." Clair gnawed on her own food quite loudly, making me flinch every time she took a bite of poultry. I was vegetarian for a reason—peskitarian if being specific. I had no problem eating fish because a lot of birds ate it.

I leant over with a muffled grunt and pinched the mushroom between my teeth, slipping it off of Morty's fork as he beamed quietly at me, moving his hand around from my thigh to my side and then my lower back, which he rubbed gently.

"Not so horrible right?" He teased.

I grunted at him, not wanting to admit that it wasn't the most horrible thing I had eaten.

"A-are you guys…together?" It was Whitney who finally spoke up, no doubt asking for Jasmine's sake. I blushed a horrible red, biting my lower lip and losing my appetite as the question seemed much more vital than the answer.

Morty held back a smirk, waiting for me to give the three hundred dollar answer.

"Sort of…" I mumbled, pushing vegetables back and forth on my dish.

The eyes all turned to us, somehow completely obvious in their knowing, and yet still so stunned. The only person who continued as if nothing was said, was Pryce. He had known for some time now—though I had no clue how—that Morty and I were somewhat of a couple.

"Have you guys fucked?"

"What!?" Clair, leave it to her to make an awkward moment even more awkward! "No!" I insisted.

"Right… enough of this." Lance waved her off. "It's none of our business anyways…"

Whitney was looking at me knowingly, like her hopeless romantic instincts were telling her to move on and be happy for us, but her friendship to Jasmine was making that impossible. She blinked once, a silent question on her lips. I shrugged, not afraid to look her in the eyes, but feeling quite wretched about the whole thing anyways. Why shouldn't I choose Jasmine? Why should I love someone like Morty? If these questions could be answered I would happily tell her why. But I couldn't… because I honestly didn't know.

Morty drove me crazy. He pissed me off more than anyone else in this world, and because of that I seemed to love him. It was as Gold said about him and Silver. Their arguing and bickering was a sign that they loved each other. Me and Morty had the same kind of love and hate relationship… only a lot more critical in terms of being intimately physical with one another. Morty wanted my ass; there was no other way to put it.

I hoped the group of them couldn't see how red I had gotten upon thinking about this. Christmas was two days away and I was thoroughly convinced that I could give Morty the gift he had been wanting for so long now, but with prying eyes and Clair asking if he had already done it… I grew nervous again.

Morty's gift from me this Christmas was sex. I would give him every ounce of my body I could and hope to Arceus that he was at least gentle with it. My heart fluttered at the thought, pushing my appetite further and further down on my body. I was not hungry and wanting food. Suddenly I was hungry in wanting relief, and it didn't help that Morty was palming my crotch.

Two days and I would be able to let it all go and give Morty the sweet surrender he had been waiting for.

"Do you think Jasmine is coming?" Chuck wondered after a moment.

"I don't suppose that's your business either." Pryce crawled out of the shell he had built around him and looked up with piercing icy eyes. He glowered at Chuck, a sudden terrible hate rising in his old features. I wasn't sure who else noticed this, but I was astonished by the sudden intense emotion.

Morty seemed determined to give me a hand job right then and there though, so I didn't hear Chuck's lame retort, which was followed by Lance again.

"Someone let her know that inspections are after New Years." He murmured around placing a carrot in his mouth.

"I'll tell her." Whitney assured, looking flustered and pushing her wineglass forward. "Pass the white wine please."

Clair poured her a glass swiftly, an expert bartender despite her breasts that got in the way of reaching across the table. Lance glowered at her ass in his face, muttering about him being able to reach it just fine.

"Are we almost done?" Bugsy asked, having eaten much faster than the rest of us. "I want to battle someone!"

"A little respect kid." Pryce grumbled, which was an insult since Bugsy was extremely insecure about his shortness. He was twenty years old, twenty one as of this upcoming February, and hated to be looked at as a child.

"We're a family are we not?" Pryce licked his lips. "We should enjoy our time together without battling for once. Since it is in the near future that one of us will be losing our place."

I tried not to flinch at the words causing me such distress. Morty glanced at me as I grew soft-boned beneath his hand, losing interest in such activities so quickly. He frowned slightly, mouthing that it would be ok even though he had no way of truly knowing for sure.

"It's also our Christmas together." Chuck flipped the white ball of his hat around the other side of his head with a small frown. "That's reason alone for us to want to be together."

"I didn't mean for us not to be together." Bugsy defended with a pout. "I just wanted to show everyone my new Scizor."

"Later." Lance said. "This is a celebration… Clair and I brought gifts as well."

"Really?" Whitney perked up; with or without the wine's help I wasn't sure.

Lance smiled—something he didn't often do—and it seemed to light up the whole room. His perfectly white teeth where lights within a mouth of casual darkness.

"Lance got everyone gifts." Clair rolled her eyes. "I only got one gift for my favorite bird brain."

No one else would have had the carelessness to say that they bought a gift for only one of the gym leaders. That was basically slapping the others in the face. I blushed as Lance moved to go retrieve seven identical size boxes from under a decorative tree in the corner of the long room. Each one was wrapped in sparkly paper much too neat to have been done by his large hands. He came around swiftly, placing the little boxes by their tags at the appropriate person. Mine had pidgey wrapping paper on it, which made me roll my eyes seeing as how Morty's was so visually sleek and dark rich purple colored.

"Lance I got you a gift too." Clair pushed away from the table and wiping her hands on her pants as she ran to the tree. "And I know you will like it."

Lance breathed a thick sigh as he placed the last little box beside Chuck. "I don't want to know Clair."

"I'm sure you will get good use out of it too." She fumbled along the gifts until she found her bag for Lance. It was Christmas blue—which was actually more Hanukkah-ish in color, and had stars and snowflakes on it.

"Let's go by youngest to oldest." Bugsy suggested, happy to be the second youngest here because Jasmine hadn't shown up.

"That's not fair." Lance commented sarcastically.

"We could go by smallest to largest dick size. Then you'd go first Lance." Morty suggested grinning goodheartedly. I chuckled softly but elbowed him for being so rude. Whitney laughed a high pitched one in surprise while Clair hooted in agreement.

"What the hell, is it pick on Lance day?" The dragon trainer sniffed, pulling his chair at the head of the table out and sitting patiently after adjusting his cape around his neck. Clair placed a rectangular and larger box before me, a card sitting on top with a terrible drawing of her on it.

"Youngest to oldest is fair." Chuck said looking at me.

"That's right Falky Baby, you're first." Clair nodded. "Open mine."

"Alright." I allowed, pulling the box into my lap and beginning to open the card. My father used to tell me that it was more polite to open the card first, and if it wasn't something serious then to read it out loud.

"Don't read it." Clair stopped me though. "You can read it later on your own. Open the present."

Morty was already peeling back the side of the paper curiously, looking through the tear at what might be inside. The box was plain white though, and gave nothing away. All the eyes focused on me as I tossed the paper aside and held the box in my lap. It was more long than it was deep, which instantly made me think clothes, which could be either horrible or wonderful depending on which brain Clair was thinking with at the time she bought it. Her sense of style went nowhere beyond skanky and casually attractive. I trusted her… but only just.

"If there's ever a time to be kinky, Clair, it's now." Morty looked down as I pulled the lid off and was suddenly staring at a sleek black suit of spandex. I blinked at it in confusion, moving the material to reveal a pair of handcuffs and a bottle of lube—fucking scented lube.

"Clair, are you sure that gift is for him?" Morty cocked his eyebrows up and smirked. "Looks more like my taste."

Clair laughed loudly at the sight of my tremendously candy ass red face. I bit my lower lip, knowing that had Whitney not asked if me and Morty were together before, they all would have known now. Morty looked ready to handcuff me to the table and yank my pants down right then and there.

"Clair you bitch." I mouthed to her and Chuck and Bugsy leaned across the table to see what it was in my box. I slammed the lid back down with a snort, though feeling very goodhearted about the whole thing. I just hoped Morty wasn't seriously thinking about all the things he would do to me with those items.

"Next is me!" Bugsy flopped back down into his chair and started tearing the paper away from his little box.

"This is good quality?" Morty mumbled to Clair, eyes bright like two lovely berries that had been bleached in the sun. He was of high spirits at the moment.

"New badges?" Bugsy grinned, holding the little box up and flipping the lip to reveal a hundred or so sparkling spinarak shaped pins. He held it up to the light happily. "It's all glittery."

Lance nodded, full of Christmas spirit as he gestured to Whitney, who was still glancing at my box of sex products wearily.

"I'm sure you all know now what you got." Lance murmured. "But the badges were specially made."

Whitney got teary eyed as she opened hers to see that it was not the usual boring normal badge she handed out. It was bright pink and lined with stripes in a strange zigzagging pattern. She held it up to the light to see that it also glittered like Bugsy's.

Morty managed a polite smile and a thank you upon opening his badges to see that they were dark as the night-purple, decorated with a pair of yellow-orange eyes. Those hit the light and reflected it in all our eyes as if the badge was trying to sear us with lazers. Lance appreciated that Morty accepted his gift, perhaps thinking that this was a step closer to being cordial with each other.

Clair's badge was in the shape of a dragon head with red beady eyes. She gasped numerous times and pined two of them on her breasts like nipples—showing that she actually loved them in her own bazaar way. We all laughed at Lance's unable to look away from her boobs as she petted the little dragon badges carefully.

And then it was his turn, and opening Clair's gift to him was an event within an event. I personally didn't even see what it was until Lance turned redder in the face than I had, and flung a dildo across the table at her.

"DAMMIT CLAIR!" He roared as the rubbery thing bounced, its neon pink color sticking out like a sore thumb among the rest of the warm Christmas things. Morty and I couldn't control our laughter at this point, and for the first time in a long time I felt like maybe we gym leaders were a family—except Jasmine wasn't here.

What if Jasmine's absence was the reason that we were all so loose and comfortable with each other?

Clair hugged Lance furiously, enjoying her gag gift to the fullest as he shoved her away stubbornly, butthurt—no pun intended—and perched his lips.

"Don't act like you don't love it." Clair insisted pointing at the sex toy. "Morty hand it to me."

Only Morty would have no problem grabbing the fake boner and handing it to her. "That thing take batteries?"

Clair giggled. "Only the best kind."

Lance covered his face as Clair took it and poked him in the ear. "Open up Lance, come on."

He swatted it aside, trying not to laugh himself. He was so embarrassed it actually hurt. Pryce was pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down, probably wishing he was dead rather than to be sitting here with us immature "children". I couldn't say I blamed him.

The rest of our night was less than sexual, though we still laughed at each other and eventually Clair got me to prank call Silver, who had actually been IN the shower with Gold at the time. That reminded me of the night at the bar and worse case scenario happened when I grew hard and Morty took it as me being horny at the sound of Silver's voice. Whitney seemed to be trying to cope with the fact that a stud like Gold could be gay at all, and Lance excused himself to bring in desert trays.

This was far more up my alley since I had a terrible sweet tooth. Morty said he wouldn't be able not to kiss me when I had the taste of frosting on my lips, and I told him that until he got rid of the flavor of red wine out of his mouth I would deny him. We were in restraint for most of the night, on and off hard and horny and thinking about the New Year that we could share together. My heart was warm, perfect in my chest for the next few days ahead, because I rejected to think about any gym inspections until the holiday was over.

We kissed once, just once, and the whole table had somehow seen it, making Chuck snort milk out his nose and the rest of us flinch with disgust. Whitney had loosened up and was "aww"-ing at us pretty much the rest of the night, while Bugsy had a little too much wine and started hitting unsuccessfully on Clair. She ended up beating him with Lance's unwanted dildo, and at that point Pryce had left Bugsy to squeal in protest without his help.

One by one we all began to trickle away as we had come in, hugging each other and wishing Merry Christmas. Even the other gym leaders took to Morty, allowing him to be part of them because they wanted him to be, not because he had to be. The acceptance was all around pleasant, like the wintry snow that fell as Falkner and I took our new badges and my new "experiments" back home with us. His house was closest so we stopped there where I fought with him for another hour to un-handcuff me from his bed post. Eventually—after I managed to kick him square in the chest—he let it go and pulled the metal thing away from me.

We lay peacefully in each other's arms, ignoring our erections for the most part until it became a need of mine. He never touched me there, deciding that just this once we would jack off on our own but still together. It amused him how quickly my slender hand strokes worked up the juices, and then about ten minutes later he came as well, a lot more violently than I had.

We fell asleep wrapped up in each other, nothing but damp boxers on and feverish dreams about Christmas and sex and the life we would have for who knows how long.

Together…


	44. Chapter 44

~Falkner~

My heart was pounding in my chest, racing as I stared in the old mirror of my household, wondering if this was right or if this was wrong. I felt completely unaware of the consequences that may become of my actions, and as my hard slowly softened and grew and back and forth again, I realized that I was still completely undecided. I wasn't ready for this. I was nervous. Completely and utterly disoriented as my own body flushed before me, lightening the dank room. I took a deep breath, trying to stop my heart from jumping out of my chest on this lovely, snow-glittered Christmas Eve.

Morty was in my bedroom, already showered and most likely getting impatient because he had a tendency to relate beds to either sex or sleep and nothing more. He was probably trying to stay awake for me, but I wouldn't doubt if he was failing miserably.

We had refused to spend Christmas Eve in any other way than together, and after me telling Morty that I wouldn't leave my birds on Christmas Eve he wound up over here, though not by his preference. He claimed he wanted me in his bed for Christmas, which had made me blush because that's exactly what I planned on giving him—only not literally his bed. I blinked at myself in the mirror once again, eyes wide and bright with uneasiness. I rolled my shoulders back and stretched with a soft moan, flipping my damp hair away from my face and turning towards the door.

The hallway lights were already off and I could see that nothing shone from my bedroom either, which was good since I needed the dark as courage. I tiptoed out into the chilly hallway air, moving carefully with one arm on the smooth wall to indicate where I was going. I swallowed as I felt my door hinges, and then the door knob beneath my hand.

"M—Morty?" I whispered.

"Yes Sweetheart?" He called back to me as my door squealed open. I cringed at the sound, stepping lightly around a pile of shed clothes.

"Merry Christmas." I huffed, finding the edge of the bed—opposite of the side I normally slept on, do to the fact that Morty insisted he sleep on the right side. I bit my lip as I crawled up through the comforter to find his bare chest. He was solid muscle beneath my slender hand.

"Ca—can I give you your gift now?" I asked quietly as he shuffled upright at my touch. I wished I could see his eyes in the dark, but at the same time I didn't want him seeing mine.

"Sure." Morty perched himself on his elbow and wrapped an arm around my back. I was sitting beside him now, hand playing with a lock of his hair.

I took a deep breath and leant in, very gently while sliding my legs out of their crossed position until I lay on my side with him. My mouth connected with his, lulling, slipping my tongue in and letting his hands travel down the length of my torso. I could nearly hear the realization in his mind as he grazed my hip bone, knowing that where clothes should lie, they did not.

He pulled back from me, hasty and moving to be sitting as well. His long, strong arms pulled me into a tight hug.

"Dammit Falkner." His fingernails were tight in my shoulders. "Y—you want to give me you?"

I couldn't handle talking about my gift to him, being sex and my body and whatever he wanted to do with it, so I leant in kissed him again. This time harder, sucking on his lower lip and tugging softly on the tendrils of hair lining the nape of his neck. Again he pulled his face away, cursing.

"Falkner… no."

"Morty… what's wrong?" I kissed his neck as I spoke.

"We—we can't."

"What? You're kidding right?"

Morty was the most naturally horny person I knew, he had tried to rape me several times, and he was always looking for an opportunity. I sat dumbfounded in his lap, turning a terrible hot red of embarrassment as he rejected me swiftly, gripping my naked sides and flipping me down onto the bed. He sat looming over me.

"Not here…"

My heart did an awkward little flip flop as the tables were suddenly turned. "Morty. What the fuck?" I hauled myself up next to him. "Don't play with games with me. Th—this is what you want. I—I want it."

He gripped my shoulders in the dark tightly, looking at me but unable to see me. "Not here Falkner. Not now."

I squirmed out of his grip, remembering my past assumptions about Morty and my household. He had an obvious distaste being here, and this was now adding to the list. Hurt ebbed at my chest as I thought about the three hundred dollars he gave me to fix up the gym, and suddenly it didn't at all feel like Morty was very compassionate. Why else would he pay to have my shabby stadium fixed? His gym was immaculate, his whole house was immaculate… so he must have a problem with the way I lived. Right?

"What is wrong with here and now?" I whispered, feeling a sudden swell of hate grow in my chest. "J—Just because I don't have the nicest house! Or just because it's not the biggest bed! A—at least I have I honor for my things!"

"What are you talking about?" Morty sniffed haughtily.

"You want to have sex with me all the time! But as soon as we are at my house you don't want to? How can you justify that? Do you think I'm not high class enough?"

"Stop it. Falkner, you're being ridiculous."

"Then WHY?"

He didn't answer me, but rather moved further away on the bed and made my heart ache with rejection. I waited in the silence for a long moment, shivering because suddenly all these Christmas Eve plans were ruined and my feelings were hurt. I sniffed; lip beginning to quiver as he sat in the faint glow of the window, away from me with his head down and his shoulders tense.

Tears swelled in my eyes as he refused to look at me, even when I reached out and touched his shoulder.

"Why won't you tell me?" I begged, wiping tears of embarrassment out of my eyes.

"I can't."

"Y—you CANT?"

Silence as I curled up into a naked ball of hurt. My heart was breaking to think that this was happening. It was like taking my personal vendetta and shoving it down my throat. I could have gone out and spent precious money on a gift for Morty—I had saved up for it—but I gathered he would want this even more. I was doing this for him and he was turning it down like it suddenly meant nothing to him. And even as I cried he stayed planted away from me, unsure and unable to do anything in the dark. So much for Christmas Eve together.

"I—If you won't tell me, th—then leave." I spluttered, which made him finally turn. My eyes had just barely adjusted to the dark, so I could see the outline of his face, which was twisted down into a pained scowl.

"You're going to hate me if I tell you." He murmured. "Sweetheart… don't cry."

"Don't call me that."

"Falkner—

"I—If you can't t—tell me th—then it's that bad?" I broke into a shallow sob, hiccupping and hiding my face in my knees. "G—get out."

"Falkner… no." He leaned over, desperate. "You have to believe me on this."

I withdrew further into myself, trying to hide the pain. I'd never had a broken heart before, not even when my father died. I had always known that it was move on or fail, and failure was not an option in my life.

Morty took a deep breath, brushing my damp hair back softly. "Alright… I'll tell you."

I sniveled to a stop, lifting my head enough to listen to his explanation.

"You know how you… have been having nightmares, and hearing things?" Morty began softly.

I nodded to myself, waiting for him to go on. I didn't know what that had to do with him because normally when he was with me I didn't have nightmares.

"You have a ghost in your house…" Morty whispered.

I swallowed a nauseous breath, coughing slightly in the cold and biting my lower lip. So all those times I felt like someone was watching me? All those moments when it sounded as if boots were walking on my floor? All the times I woke up screaming in the night because I had been dreaming about my father and his numerous life lessons he told me… it was all a ghost? My stomach curled as angry butterflies battered the inside of my chest.

"Wh—why didn't you tell me?" I said breathlessly. "I—It's my…"

"Your father."

For the past few months of knowing Morty and falling in love with Morty I had been suppressing guilt, quietly reminding myself from time to time that if my father was here he would highly disapprove of the choices I made. But little had I known that he was here the whole time, watching me, seeing the way Morty touched me and the way I touched him. Suddenly everything felt so wrong, and the guilt I had gnawed in my chest like a wild pokemon would a piece of prey. Everything suddenly felt tighter, more mangled inside this unknown world called the afterlife.

"W—why Morty?" I gripped the blankets from next to me, pulling them up and covering myself as if it was suddenly a stranger looking at me. "Y—you l-lied to me. A—about my own father?"

Tears poured like rain as he tried to reach out to me, his face pained and eyes wide with worry. "No, Falkner I did it for you."

I grit my teeth together. "I—I asked YOU! I—T—though th—there was a g—ghost here a—an-and you li—lied to me! A—and it's my—my fa—father!"

"I didn't want you to suffer knowing you're father was watching you!" He growled. "You have to make your own decisions."

That wasn't the problem though… the problem was that I was so weak minded that the thought of my father being here watching my every move made me a better person. He wanted me to be strong, well him being here helped with that. He wanted me to honor myself and my things, well him being here was the cause. Everything I ever learned came from that man, and suddenly it felt as though I had been slowly losing myself since the day he died. And yet I tried iso hard/i.

It really wasn't Morty's fault, and I understood why he did what he did, even though I couldn't help but think it was selfish of him as well. My heart cracked in half as the ghost trainer tried to lean into me, to comfort me, and I only pushed him away. Rejection seemed to fly back and forth on this terrible Christmas Eve night, and my heart settled on one and one thing only.

The right thing.

"M—Morty y—you need to leave." I hid my face. "I—I need ti—time… to think."

"What?" He sounded strangled, as if he had just been punched in the stomach.

"Pl—please leave."

"Falkner… a—are you… breaking up with me?"

I hid my face, sobbing into my knees and the blankets and wishing that this all would just go away. I knew my father hated gays and anything to do with gay people. I knew my father would hate me for the decisions I had made in the past few months, and I knew the only way to set this straight between me and my dead father—the man that gave me everything—was to let Morty go. To MAKE him go.

"G—get out."

The ghost trainer was silent for a long moment, contemplating and agonized as he slowly pulled away from me, slithering to the edge of the bed and then bending at the floor for his clothes. I had to look away as he got fully dressed, pulling on his shoes and his scarf with a numbing exhausted appearance. I trembled, hurt so sharp in my chest that I thought I might start spurting blood. I whimpered as he came back to me, placing one last and final kiss on the top of my head, and leaving something in my lap.

"I'm sorry…" Morty whispered as a tear slipped from his cheek onto my shoulder.

It was the last thing he said before leaving me.


	45. Chapter 45

~Morty~

I didn't want to drink. I didn't want to have sex with prostitutes. I didn't have to do anything that had to do with forgetting about Falkner. I wanted to ihurt/i. I wanted to feel it bleeding inside me and know that this was my reason for living. I wanted to come to terms with the fact that Falkner had pretty much just dumped me.

Just like that. Based off of the dead decision his father bestowed on him so long ago. Falkner was guilty, I could see that in his face as he discovered the truth I had been hiding from him for so long now. Walter Hayato was there, in his household, watching his every move. I had convinced myself long ago that having sex with Falkner in that house was perhaps the most stupid and irrational thing I could do, and so upon rejecting him I was forced with the horrible decision whether to tell him the truth, or let him think it was me being stupid and selfish.

I now wished that I would have broken my unwritten law and just fucked him for Arceus sake. His father would have watched and screamed and perhaps try to break things to get us to stop, but at the very least I could have played dumb and hope Falkner wouldn't notice.

I was damning myself to hell now on this blizzard Christmas Morning, after getting no sleep and consuming far too much agony for my own good. I lay in the cold sheets of my bed feeling lost, empty, broken as I waited for a call, a text, anything to let me know that Falkner had somehow pulled through and made it out with his own mindset.

Walter Hayato had chained his son to the ground before he died and I wanted so badly to break those chains. Falkner needed to fly away like the bird he was. He needed to be himself and love because he wanted to, not because it was his father's demand. Walter was perhaps the most selfish man I ever knew, and certainly the most selfish ghost. He didn't even care that his son was in pain now; he just didn't want Falkner to love me.

I had thrown things, I had cried, I had screamed at the top of my lungs until even Gengar was fearful for my mental health, and now there was nothing left. Nothing but a black hole of sorrow in this casket that was my body. I was helpless, I was gone, I was broken to pieces, unable to stand up and face the day like a strong man would. Things were ruined.

Love was probably the most painful thing I had to endure, now that I knew its full potential. And I decided irrationally that I hated it. I hated it so much that I loved it. Love was like a drug, and by and by while I was swimming in the ultimate high, there were consequences to pay. Love could make or break you. I learned that the hard way it seemed.

The day was long and tedious, full of troublesome nothing as I sat around stuffing my face with pistachios and trying to imagine what I would be doing with Falkner had he not dumped my ass last night. I cried every hour it seemed, but not because I was so upset that I couldn't handle it. It was because I was so pissed off at myself for letting things get ruined. I came up with so many scenarios in my head, so many different things I could have done to prevent Falkner from finding out about his father's ghost that I literally felt like the dumbest person on the planet.

I didn't know what I would do anymore. Thing shad seemed to be going so smoothly with Falkner at my side. I had begun to feel wanted all around. Even the other gym leaders, who had thought so little of me before he came along, were now considering me part of them. I had been lead into the light by a fallen angel of some sort, and now without him I was falling back into the darkness that once was me. I felt more alone than I did even in my earliest years in that damn orphanage I grew up in.

I was revolting back into the despair that was my life before Falkner. Everything, crumbling, crashing down, falling into a pit. There were so many different ways I could say it, and so much I wanted to tell him, but no way… I didn't even have the balls to call him personally. Texting wasn't getting the point across either. My shallow "I'm sorry" and "I love you"'s were not working in the slightest. He wouldn't answer me.

I was so lost that by the time a mere change in atmosphere struck, I nearly jolted out of my skin, scrambling to my front door in a fumbled mess and yanked on the knob until the door flew open revealing probably to most unexpected shitty Christmas Gift I had ever received

"Le—leader Morty!" Eusine, that freak from the Brass/Burned tower, who apparently wound up in the hospital with me and thought I saved his life, stood on my porch, trying to catch his breath. "Th—the Suicune!"

I slammed the door in his face, a snarl rising in my throat as I stormed back over to my cell phone and checked it again. There was a faint knock behind me as I dialed Falkner's numb

er.

"Gengar, deal with it!" I pinched the bridge of my nose, seeing red beyond the agony in my heart. Gengar slipped across the floor on command, sliding beneath the crack in my front door and screaming at the freak on my porch. It was an earsplitting wail as the dial tone in my hand sounded and I knew Falkner had turned his phone off.

With a hate-filled wail I threw the phone on the ground and walked off to my bedroom where I could hide in the smell of warm candles and try and convince myself that I wasn't crying. Is this is what would become of my life…?

Dammit…

Without Falkner.

…

~Falkner~

"There there, Falkner… come on now, it will be ok." Silver said shyly, petting my navy hair back as I lay curled up against his chest with Gold sandwiching me on the other side. I cried thickly, unable to tell them just how guilty I was for the things I had done.

"I—I can—can't even answer m—my phone." I sobbed against Silver as Gold rubbed the back of my neck with his strong hand.

"Hang in there kid." The honey eyed boy said.

"Fuck you Gold." Silver scolded. "We're younger than him."

I shriveled into them on the large hotel room bed, hoping that the sheets had been washed because that would be the fucking icing on my cake of misery—to find residue of Silver and Gold's relationship in the bedding.

"I—I can't love him!" I nearly shrieked, muffling my emotions as Silver hugged me tighter. The redhead was far more equipped to deal with these miserable situations than Gold was. Silver knew what it was like to have a father who disapproved of EVERYTHING. Silver had told me earlier about all the hell his father—Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni—had put him through, and even though I refused to believe it was the same thing, because my father actually loved me, I didn't feel any better. It was selfish of me to believe that I had it worse than Silver ever did, but we all feel that way now and again don't we?

"Who the fuck says?" Gold rolled his eyes, nuzzling the back of my head. "Falky Baby, I'm sorry but… you're father is dead."

"Gold!" Silver kicked him as best he could without me being in the way. "Shuddap!"

"What? It's true!"

"M—My father w—was a great man." I whimpered, but I felt as though I was trying to convince myself more than them. Was it so wrong of me to feel this way? Was it so wrong to think that I couldn't even handle a little relationship failure and move on? My father wouldn't even pity me for feeling like this. He would say that his wife—my blood mother—died giving birth to me and that he moved on. He would say that he stood tall when all else failed him, and that that was the way to live your life honorably. He would tell me that it was pathetic to dwell on another person like that.

In all honesty I wished I could tell him that I wasn't strong enough to move on, and that without Morty everything felt like a jumbled mess of despair. He would then ask me what about the birds. And I would say without them I would die. And then he would say birds were the only family I needed, and I would agree out loud but my heart would cry with loneliness because I knew now that there was so much more love outside of the bird family I had now.

Not that I didn't love my birds of course... they were my world, my foundation, my structure. I was raised by wings not hands and without them my life would be meaningless; however I couldn't let myself believe that they were all I needed to be happy. Morty had shown me so much happiness… things and emotions that birds couldn't give me.

"Are you cold?" Silver asked, squishing my shaking form closer between him and Gold. "There is a draft coming in… but this was the only room the pokemon center had left. Since the blizzard is going, no trainers want to be out."

"I—It's ok." I sniffled as Zephyr pecked through my hair, laying on the pillow above me and concerned because this state I was in was so horrible. It was Christmas day when Gold and Silver had shown up at my house in high spirits wanting to wish me happy holidays before heading west to Olivine, but at that time there was no sign of a blizzard on the horizon. They ended up stuck in this icy little town of violet begging for a pokemon center, which also made me guilty because I could have so easily let them stay with me at my house.

Only my house was haunted and I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else being there with my father watching. Gold, Silver, and I had been connected by tongue at that part about a week ago and despite there being no signs of intimacy between the three of us now, I couldn't feel right around my father. I didn't even know where the man was, or how he was there, or WHY, since his body was buried six feet in the ground out in a field somewhere.

It mentally killed me to know that I had gone to talk to my father's grave at least a dozen times, telling him I missed him and that I wished he could be there to guide me, when all I actually had to do was talk in my own home. I would get no reply… but that was about as much as I was receiving at his grave anyways.

"Why do you care about what your father thinks so much?" Gold asked, moving his head slightly so that his cheek was pressed up against the back of my hair, and so that Zephyr's butt wasn't in his face.

I wasn't about to explain to Gold that I had been living in my father's shadow for so long that I knew no other way to think, so I curled up closer to Silver because his silent stroking my shoulder was more comforting that Gold's demanding questions.

Gold let out a small muffled moan, perhaps jealous that I was clinging to his lover and not him. After all, Gold and I were good friends first. I took the honey eyed boy's hand against my chest so that he didn't feel left out, and appreciated the extra warmth because this room truly did have a terrible draft.

"Gold… has a point Falkner…" Silver murmured after a while. "You can't make decisions based on what your father would think… that unhealthy. You're a grown man."

I didn't feel grown at all… I felt utterly small and lonely in comparison to these two younger boys who were living their dreams day in and day out. Silver and Gold were wealthy young trainers with a lot of power at the moment, whereas I was just an unfamiliar gym leader that struggled to find money to pay the next months mortgage. I had dozens of birds to take care of, and I couldn't even find it in me to take care of myself. It was like I had gotten so dependent on Morty that I had forgotten just how much stress was built around me.

"I would be so pissed if my father tried to stop me from loving you Silver." Gold mumbled over my head, batting his long eyelashes at the redhead.

"Shut up Gold." He rolled his eyes, making the larger boy pout.

Gold and Silver didn't understand though…they didn't live the life I did, they didn't spend every single day listening to lessons about honor and courage and strength. They didn't have the same definition of the words that I did. They didn't know that those traits went back generations of bird trainer in my family, those that went through life raising warriors to fight and performance birds to amaze even the most skeptical of people. My family—little as it was without the birds—was not the kind of family to stray from their path. We all had a set-in-stone life that revolved around generations of bird-to-human relationships, and I was terrified of the penalty that could come with losing myself. I had already strayed so far in letting Morty love me… now I had let myself love him in return.

My father didn't appreciate gay relationships; he used to talk bad about them all the time, and even though I never thought much of it at all, I still should have known better to begin with than to fall into one. It wasn't as if I had any preference to men of women either, I just never…thought about it. Morty was the first person to come along and really show that he loved me in a romantic—and sometimes frightening—way. He was the only one, even with other options like Jasmine, it had always been Morty. Something had always been special about him, whether it be him pissing me off, or him calling me that petty little name: Sweetheart.

Fresh tears swelled in my eyes and fell as I thought about all the times Morty called me Sweetheart. The first time being at the Lake of Rage event, which was also the first time I met Gold and Silver personally. My memories swam back in a blur, to me being so violently sick and urinating purple poison, and him taking such good care of me. I thought back to the first time he kissed me at the Burned Tower, the time he was in a coma and I thought I had lost him, which in the end made me realize that I loved him.

So much had happened between us that it wasn't even fair to think that I could just let it all go, and yet I honestly felt there was no other option. If I had even a lick of respect for the dead I would honor my father and know that he didn't want me to love Morty.

"What do we do?" Silver sighed to his partner as I began in another round of hysterics.

I felt Gold shrug around me. "I—I don't know…"

That was just it though…

There was nothing that anyone could do…

…..

~Jasmine~

There was so much hate growing inside of me…

"STEELIX! KILL IT!"

So much… hate…

"DOUBLE EDGE!"

I wasn't able to cope with the loss of my virginity well.

"DRAGON BREATH!"

Another trainer down… another male, lost in vain because of the giant, gaping black hole in my heart. I was no longer able to look th—these icreatures/i in the eyes. I was convinced that any human male was the enemy, and while I rode on the high hopes of becoming something better—something once again stable—I was cut with guilt like a knife because beyond that shell of hard, cold, anger, was a very small portion of the inner self that so desperately wanted closure. I wanted blood… I wanted to be happy.

I wanted…

"GET OUT!"

The trainer—the male—fled from my gym carrying his Raticate in his arms, tears in his young eyes because it had been an unfair fight against my Steelix, who was now feeding off of my hatred. We had once been an unlikely combination, fragile and indestructible, together in harmony, peace as one would call it… and now the two of us were on a rampage. I had Steelix's spirit, his… inner strength, and he had my loathing. In a matter of two weeks—just two—since the rape had gotten more frequent and longer at a time—I had gone up two spaces, surpassing Bugsy and Chuck himself on battle accuracy. I used to lose often; now I didn't lose at all.

Hate made me stronger.

And yet I still wanted something.

Love…

Maybe it wasn't love anymore… Maybe all I really wanted was revenge. Blood.

"STAND DOWN!" I snapped my fingers at the mighty iron beast that inhabited my gym remembering what Whitney—my dear friend Whitney—had told me about Falkner.

Falkner loved Morty. As of two days before Christmas the truth had come out, and I could only thank my common sense to have not gone to that meeting. Everything happened for a reason after all. My reason to have not gone was because I didn't intend on getting raped again, and because I wouldn't have been able to sit there quietly and hear Falkner say he loved such a freak.

Morty Matsuba…

I grit my teeth together, fuming at the name ringing in my ears.

Did I want love? Did I want Falkner?

Or did I want revenge?


	46. Chapter 46

~Falkner~

iTo Falkner

From Clair: Hope u had a gr8t newyurss!/i

I sighed, glancing at the text message with emptiness in my heart as I brought Mama Bird, Jake, Pride, and Zephyr to one of the many large fields around Violet City. The snow had stopped for a day, turning into deadly frozen ice over the concrete, and crunchy prickly spikes in the yellowed grass. The blizzard had subsided, so Gold and Silver left, and I was suddenly very alone. Not that I wasn't used to it. I had been alone for over four days now.

I stood in the grass, my heart thudding awkwardly as I knew just what I had come here to do. There had been a nagging ache in my heart since the night that Morty and I broke up, and I hadn't so much as managed to listen to his voice on my messages without crying. I didn't know how I would be able to open such a gift from him—but I knew I didn't have a choice.

It was cruel to leave pokemon in their balls for long periods of time, birds or not I strongly agreed that they shouldn't be trapped if there was a way to avoid it, and so after a week of keeping whatever poor creature locked in the ball that Morty gave me that night, just before stepping quietly out of my life, I knew I had to let it out.

With a deep breath I held the ball, emotionally detached because its dark luxurious purple color reminded me of Morty and Morty only. I knew he had done that on purpose as well. But neither of us could have predicted how Christmas Eve was going to turn out, so I didn't expect it to be so painful to look at. I bit my lower lip, shut my eyes tight and let a single tear fall before clicking the ball. It warped in my hand, growing larger and much more antagonizing than before. Zephyr pecked me in the side of the head curiously, mad that I was deliberating.

I dropped the ball into the grass softly, wishing that Morty hadn't given me a gift at all—I had never gotten to give him his. Of course I didn't even want to think about that anymore…

The white light was excruciating, always painfully strong the first time a ball is opened, and even more so because it had been trapped in there for a week. I flinched, looking away as Zephyr flitted from my shoulder, chittering loudly.

A gentle chirp sounded, and at that I knew I could no longer look away. I peered through cracks in my lids, my heart pumping as a very small song bird pecked at my shoe.

A song bird.

Morty hadn't so much as asked me ONCE what kind of bird I would want—if I could choose just one—and he had gone above and beyond to get me such a creature. My stomach twisted with a sudden, horribly bittersweet dilemma. How could I love something given to me by someone I wasn't supposed to love at all?

And yet the little bird won my heart in an instant, looking up at me with endearing emerald eyes, and flapping her stubby young rainbow wings. She was much too small to be a male bird at all, and I knew that if she had been Zephyr would have attacked in a heartbeat. But rather the pidgey—who looked massive and obese in comparison—inspected her carefully, eyes glittering as he was also smitten by her adorable looks.

"Chatot?" I murmured, but was ignored as she tilted her head to the side and looked at Zephyr with an intelligent stare. She blinked her soft pink eyelids at him, and he revolted back with a lovely chirp. Zephyr knew how to sing, and he was very well good at it, he just didn't often like to because he was stubborn.

I bent slowly as my other birds started to appear around in a curious circle. Mama Bird stood just a few paces behind me, crooning in approval at the new family member, who shrank at her size difference. Pride stayed back, watching carefully for predators in the field that might be of danger to his flock, and Jake was circling above, looking for a place to land without frightening the rainbow bird.

I put my hand out to her softly. "Hey there little baby bird… come on…"

She looked at me, her docile eyes wide with worry, but understanding the gesture and proving to me that she had already had some training. She stepped up onto the side of my hand with a musical and perhaps the most beautiful tweet I had ever heard. My ears felt as though they were swelling on the inside, warm like the tears coming through my eyes.

How could I love something that was a gift from someone I wasn't supposed to love?

I didn't know the answer to that question… but at the very least I knew that I could channel my love into this tiny song bird rather than him—or I could try. She nuzzled my chin delicately as I brought her up to my eye level, turning her this way and that in my hand so I could see the range of colors in her thick, downy feathers. She couldn't be more than about two months old, judging by the harmless and frail talons that grew on her long stick-like legs.

"What should I call you?" I sniffed, ignoring Zephyr's jealous untying my shoelaces. "You're so precious…"

I couldn't help it, birds warmed my heart, and the fact that Morty had given me this bird made it nothing of ordinary. I swallowed hard; this Chatot was the last thing I had of Morty aside from memories which I tried so hard to surpass.

She sang before me, the most perfect sound of high soprano that I had ever heard, one that put the sounds of my other birds to shame—sorry to say. She complimented Zephyr's voice ever so delicately, making his demanding alto smoothing, softer, more…

"Legato." I mumbled as she tickled my ears with her sounds. "I'll call you Legato."

She kissed the tip of my nose sweetly, glancing down at Zephyr who looked like a train wreck without my—or her—attention. He was hissing, beak wide and eyes sharp until she tweeted directly at him, and he blinked as if his heart had just been struck by cupid.

Mama Bird came over and nudged her baby then, scolding him for being so rude and then lifting up to touch beaks with the tiny Chatot who was sitting so weightlessly on my hand. Mama Bird crooned at her, welcoming her to the family.

Jake landed then, hobbling over with his handsome strides and puffing out his chest proudly, happily at the new bird. Pride still remained a ways off, but was watching us with a pleasant expression. I laughed a shaky laugh for the first time in a week, tears still streaming and I bent to pick up Zephyr. He was much heavier in my left hand than the bird in my right.

"It's ok buddy." I nuzzled Zephyr. "Don't be jealous."

He pecked me harshly, hopping down my wrist until he could reach out and nearly touch Legato. She shied away from him of course, but if the term "love bird" meant anything, I was almost positive that's what Zephyr wanted to be. He was terribly smooth in his talking (chirping) but the Chatot merely sang her own tune, rejecting him without even knowing it.

Mama Bird pressed her face against my neck, cuddling into me because this was what she had been wanting for too long now. Over the past week she had been worried sick about me, and though I didn't know how long this temporary high would last, suddenly things fell into an orderly destruction. My heart still ached, but I felt as though a piece had been put back together. Just one tiny little fragment of the shatters I was in. And I felt brave.

Brave like I could face my father's ghost tonight and not be silent in my house as I listened to the sounds of boots on wooden floors that I did not have. I felt like maybe I would sleep tonight—maybe.

But of course, despite it all, I was still a blubbering crying mess, sinking to the wet frosty grass again and crying with my birds around me, lifting their wings to hold me into their feathered bubble while I just couldn't take the emotions rolling inside of me. Mama Bird saw improvement, Jake was always one to worry, so he saw trauma, Pride was solemn, respectful as I melted down yet again, blowing off steam in this field with my knew song bird and Zephyr trying to woo with her.

"I—I love you birds." I whimpered, a tragic smile playing on my lips. "B—But I still love Morty too…"

….

~Morty~

"Why—The—the fuck—do you keep…following me?!" I huffed between ragged breaths on the treadmill in the human gym of Ecruteak.

I had discovered that not only was running one way to remember the pain of losing Falkner, but a way to make it worth my while as well. The ache in my chest, the sweat on my face, it all seemed to go together when I ran. And I felt more productive than I had in the last week. Of course that didn't compensate for the utter turmoil my mental health was in… but at the very least I wasn't getting fat over sitting around eating pistachios alone all day—those fucking nuts. I didn't even like them anymore; I just wanted to remember a time when Falkner needed me.

Eusine glided smoothly next to me on a treadmill that was in bad condition, when there were so many other better ones to have chosen from; he did not break a sweat or a stride as his cape was strewn out behind his petty little determined face.

"I—I was here f—first!" He argued, glancing at me while gripping the rails of the machine. I preferred to run upright on my own, with my arms free to maneuver.

"You could have—known th—that I was coming." I huffed, adjusting the headband so that my hair stood up haphazardly about, dampening and then crusting over with a layer of sweat. Over the past week Eusine and I had been running into each other non-stop, and I was beginning to think that it was not just coincidence. Mostly because I wasn't stupid and I knew the look on his face the moment he saw me was not surprise, but contemplation every time. He knew where I was going to be and when, which meant that he could only have one thing: a ghost.

"I—I didnt!" Eusine lied.

"You have a ghost pokemon." I grimaced. "B—but you keep it in—in its ball often?"

Eusine, having not expected such a sudden assumption, snagged the cord on his treadmill and stuttered to a stop, flopping over in his tank top and cape and breathing heavily while his legs shuffled to the beat of an unmoving ground. I put my speed up a notch in response to this, feeling much easier moved by the rhythmic groaning of machine under me. It was no wonder Falkner had taken a liking to running, it toned the muscles you already had and was all around good for your heart—physically though… not emotionally.

"I—I… How did you?" Eusine wiped the sweat out of his slicked back hair in confusion as I ran.

"I—I just…could….tell." I panted. "Ghost are not… like other pokemon though. You shouldn't—keep them… locked up."

I was getting pretty fed up with this unfit, squishy-muscled freak at the moment. I was caught between believing he was just plain stupid, or he thought that I was stupid, and neither were a good combination. A low growl rose in my throat as he moved, grabbing his water bottle from the treadmill and heading off in another direction without a word, obviously disoriented by my seeing through his pretense.

The silence around me was soothing as Eusine faded from my mind and Falkner trickled back in. His brilliant aqua eyes shining in the winter daylight, flashing in the dull moonlight. Everything about him down to the way his small nose was perched above his lovely narrow lips. I bathed myself in the memory of him, and the way he felt in my arms until there was nothing but a shallow hole in my chest that needed to be filled. I ran harder at this feeling, trying to find myself in his mindset. I wondered if he was running now—probably not though because it was so late at night. My throat was tight by the time a sudden beeping caught me, and looking down I could see that an hour had passed since I started. One hour of tedious jogging… why did I still feel this way? Why did I feel empty?

Not even the past fulfillment of running and getting my blood pumping could coax the pain out of me—not even for a moment. I focused on it, trying to render it in my chest because there was nothing else I could do. Trying to surpass it was not an option anymore, and after a week of realizing this I had given up. I wanted to hurt. I wanted this rain of misery to fall over me.

Falkner had not answered my text or my phone calls to him, and even though I was persistent and kept trying every once in awhile, hoping maybe he would pick up by accident and let me hear his voice, I had started to give into the submission. Falkner obviously wanted nothing to do with me… his father had obviously won this battle…so why keep bothering him? It was only my stubbornness that kept me going day in and day out. I knew it was only a matter of time before I wound up on his doorstep.

I stumbled away, my legs feeling achy and stiff as I headed towards the shower rooms guzzling water. This place was always near empty at night, so I didn't expect to be met with steam as I opened the public door and shuffled inside. Internally I groaned, not wanting to deal with this man and not wanted to go home smelling like the gym either. Eusine was smoothly rinsing, his clothes folded neatly on a tile ledge that separated him from the rest of the showers. I moved to the opposite side of the shower room and started a faucet, letting it sting against my shoulders for the time being, tightening my muscles with its cold spray until it warmed and I began to relax.

"You know Morty!" Eusine called from the other side of the steaming room. "You may not know this… but I've had my fair share of battles, and I know how to raise a pokemon."

I grimaced, ignoring him as he was butthurt over my attack on him keeping his ghost in a ball more than often.

"I—I kind of want to challenge you!" Eusine suggested.

I snorted a laugh, turning shamelessly and letting the water pound onto my back. I hadn't a decent battle with someone in ages it seemed, and yet there was no desire to whatsoever. My ghosts were well on their way to indestructible—especially Gengar, and I didn't have the mental capacity (or patience) to deal with someone as childish as Eusine.

"Come on Morty…" The voice suddenly softened as I shook my hair out, eyes closed until suddenly a pair of small hands touched the small of my back.

I whirled, a snarl raising in my chest as Eusine was there, shuffling towards me in the heat of the shower, eyes wide and—terrible sexual out of nowhere. Was he a magician? That's how it felt looking into his pale blue cloudy eyes. I bared my teeth, raising my hand as he fumbled forward, reaching past me to touch the faucet and turn it to the hottest setting.

"FUCK OFF!" I pulled my arm back and let it go, like a sling shot of built up aggravation over the past week. I was fuming like the water that squealed in mercy, tiny sizzling drops landing on my shoulders and Eusine fell to the tile floor, blood trickling from his nose and his eyes lolling in shock. A sudden, striking feeling of déjàvu his me almost as hard as I hit him, and while I stepped around his twitching form I realized—more like had an epiphany—of that night at the burned tower so long ago.

I had punched Eusine then… He was wrong to think I saved him… I had only harmed him that night.

"Yo—you don't understand." Eusine begged, rolling in the puddles until he was on his side, dripping blood from his nose and lip. "M—Morty I admire you!"

"Fuck off you dipshit." I pulled a towel off a rack swiftly and wrapped it around me, not caring that I would freeze upon going home in the cold, but knowing that if I didn't get out of here soon there would be a murder committed and blood on my hands.

Eusine whined softly, a painful whimper growing in his throat as I pushed the shower room doors open and stepped out into the chilly gym. A shiver rolled up my spine as I left him bleeding and alone in the tile. This was most certainly the old me coming through. This was the darkness, the loneliness inside of me without Falkner that wanted to consume me. It was a wretched way to feel, and even more so when I stopped and thought about it. Eusine and his faggot ass could come onto me all he wanted, but that didn't mean it was right of me to punch him like that. I could take it like a man, or calmly refuse… but Arceus forbid any of those conscious and tactful decisions come into play while I was alone. Falkner had abandoned me… ditched me on a street corner in the rain. I felt like I was suddenly that orphan in a box out in front of a police station again.

My teeth ground together with hurt.

Eusine should know better than to fuck with me anyways…


	47. Chapter 47

~Falkner~

I—I couldn't handle it.

I had to turn back…

Morty would be there…

But…

If I didn't go…

Then how would I know?

Inspections had already started and though I didn't know when my day was, I couldn't take any chances… I had to know what was coming for me. I had to know how bad the verdict was; just how far down my poor ass was on the list of gym leader income. I hadn't a challenger in over a month, which meant the only money I was bringing in was from funding and the gym leader's association. I had already taken a loan, missed a mortgage payment, and taken three hundred dollars from the one person I was so terrified of seeing tonight I felt like I was going to be physically ill.

Morty had called me so many times, and I would stay up every night listening to him on my voicemail, thinking maybe if I listened long enough it would fill the emptiness of my heart, when in all reality though it didn't do any such thing… it made me unstable and hollow. I felt like I had betrayed my own heart in a way… like my brain was so hell bent on doing the right thing that I didn't even need a heart to survive anymore. I felt like a renegade to myself. Like I was something as tiny as a white blood cell fighting off all the evil in my systems, and failing miserably.

Everything hurt as I approached the Indigo Plateau, Zephyr snug in my leather Jacket and sleeping soundly against my chest as heavy snow fell out and about. Pride shook himself as we landed; his wings were numb from the chilly flight. I thanked him briefly before calling him back into his ball and turning to face the daunting league doors. I had come purposefully late, in hopes that a tongue lashing from Lance would be better than getting stuck in a seat next to Morty. My heart ached.

I had to do this though… for my gym… my birds, my father, my ilife/i. I had to stand up and be a man and face the gym leaders and let them know that I wasn't just going to back down. I was determined to be strong on my own, with or without help.

Those words all sounded fine and dandy in my head… but upon settling on my lips I couldn't manage them. I was completely tongue tied with myself, holding the warm bundle to my chest and hoping that if there was ever a time Zephyr would be by my side it was now.

"We can do this buddy…" I huffed to the sleeping lump in my jacket. "Just don't make eye contact…Zephyr… you have every right to peck me if I look at him."

I pushed through the doors shakily; my frozen hands stuffed into my pockets once I was inside, and made my way to the lobby area where the hallways all connected. I knew beyond a corridor of velvety red carpet and burgundy walls lay a door in which the gym leaders had all been together on Christmas—minus Jasmine though. The last time I had been here it was filled with green pine needles and reefs and fake Christmas trees with glimmering lights on them. And I had walked in holding Morty's hand where he then took me and opened the other gym leaders eyes to our relationship… our former relationship. I wondered what the other gym leaders would think of us now that we weren't all over each other and holding hands… that we didn't walk in together or tease one another and kiss and hug and him trying to get me to eat mushrooms that I hated—but really weren't that bad.

My throat swelled and my lip quivered as I approached the closed meeting room door, reaching out and touching the handle, secretly hoping it was locked, but knowing that applying pressure would only ensure it opening. My heart raced and I had to check my eyes for tears before sliding the handle down and releasing the hinges. I blinked owlishly; turning my head directly to the head of the table where I knew Lance would be sitting or standing and addressing everyone.

"You're late." The dragon trainer mumbled as Clair shot up from her seat and lopped over to me, breasts lolling and smothered in her winter jacket.

"Falky BABY!" She yanked me in, dragging me along to the empty seat at the table next to her. I slumped into it, eyes barely flickering about as I scanned the chairs with the tops of my eyes.

Clair was to my left, Lance was at the head, across from Clair was Bugsy, across from me was Chuck, next to Chuck was Pryce, and next to him was Jasmine, which meant that across from Jasmine—next to me—was Morty.

My heart stopped as I forced my face away, looking bravely at Lance and nodding.

"I—I'm sorry… there was some weather trouble…" I mumbled, unzipping my jacket slightly to give Zephyr some breathing room.

"Very well." Lance, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air, flying like sparks in the same fashion they did when you reached that high of being about to cum—only this hurt. This hurt so bad… like thousands of electrical currents zapping me as I could feel Morty's dark lilac gaze resting on the back of my head.

"Is Pride ok?" A lulling, gentle and quiet voice asked me, sending those electrical currents radiating through my shoulder blades and spine and rolling further up into the hair that fell on the back of my neck. I shivered, nearly holding my breath until I hadn't the choice but to wipe my eyes.

"Fine." I huffed back at the ghost trainer, not looking at him as my heart cried out so desperately. i I love you! I love you Morty! .i it wailed, but was unheard and unanswered as my father's ghost lay heavily upon my shoulders. I reminded myself silently that Morty and I couldn't be together… it was my father's dying wish for me not to let him down… he put all his faith into me and raising me to bring the best out of the Violet City gym… I couldn't let him down.

Not even for love…

"Back to business yes?" Lance mumbled. "Chuck you had your inspection yesterday morning..." the dragon tamer flipped through a stack of papers, looking at charts and information as his cape hung heavily over his shoulder, still as the thick air that lay in this room. I suddenly felt very hot, defrosting too fast from outside and disliking the way my heart tried to match the fluttering of Zephyr's. I shifted uneasily, scooting my chair closer to Clair as she blinked at me, ignoring Lance and what he was saying about Chuck's battle record.

"Morty said he broke up with you…" Clair turned and whispered in my ear. "I know this might be too soon… but I've got these vagina traps. Like rattata traps, only… when a guy puts his dick in me, WHACK!" she snickered. "I'll seduce Morty if you want… that will teach him a lesson right?"

I flinched, imagining the horrors of between Clair's legs, and knowing that if anyone dare venture that far they would find more than just traps. They might find horrible things like AIDS as well. But even more than that, I didn't understand what he had said because… Morty hadn't broken up with me. I had broken up with him. I quivered in my seat, imagining Morty taking all the blame for this situation because surely the other gym leaders were more friendly with me than him. Pushing Clair away I tried to focus on Lance's speech.

"Jasmine you will be having your inspection tomorrow at noon." He said, tapping a pen against the stack of papers. "Would you like to tell us why you missed last meeting?"

I didn't look in Jasmine's direction, because that was too close to Morty, but I could hear a slight hiss in her voice.

"I didn't feel very well after the club party…"

She was lying… I could tell just by her voice that there was another reason for her to be so upset and angry at Lance for asking a simple question. I hesitated, carefully moving my eyes so that I could peek beneath where my palm covered and see that she was fuming in her seat, on edge as if she was going to snap at the next person to direct her. I had never seen her look so… so… pained before.

It had been a very long time since Jasmine and I were friends, and since the last time I saw her I had rejected her completely and Morty had shoved her to the ground… that was a very bad combination seeing as though she was seething, her hard chestnut eyes narrowed rather than the wide open spaces they used to be. She barred her small squared teeth at me as if this whole thing was my fault—as she hadn't the slightest clue that Morty and I were no longer together.

"AH well…" Lance was taken aback by her tone and moved on quickly. "Clair your inspection is Thursday, Morty Friday, and Falkner you're on Saturday."

"Isn't Pryce getting an inspection?" Bugsy managed to grumble through his teeth, though everyone ignored him, turning their eyes in other directions so that the ice trainer did not spear them with his powdery gaze. I realized at this, that it was not just me and Morty that had the awkward running sky high. Jasmine was a contributor to this as well as Pryce.

And if I had to admit it to myself, I couldn't say I was pleased either. Pryce seemed to have just gotten a free pass to keep his gym, and regardless of age I didn't think that was right. The old trainer was not in his prime anymore so I couldn't imagine he got many challengers, especially being that it was winter. No one went to his winter themed gym in the winter; they went to gyms like Jasmine's in Olivine. I slumped slightly, muffling a depressed sigh. Had this inspection happened during the summer I would be thriving because all the new trainers would be out, filtering through their hometowns straight into Violet where they would challenge me because I was their first obvious option. I may not have the luxury of the beach to bring in trainers, or historical landmarks like Ecruteak, but at the very least I had a starting point.

I knew that in order to keep my gym in the winter was to make it in such perfect condition that it would even out the scores I got for trainer battles. They could only scold me so much for not bringing in income, but if someone's gym was a hazard over mine then they're only option would be to make that leader quit. Scary thing was, my gym was already becoming a hazard do to the high beams that trainers climbed and walked on to get to the stadium. Unlike, say Jasmine's gym, which was a simple and flat area with no tricks. I already had danger on my side, but there was no way I could take that away now. My father ran the gym on those high beams, so I could too.

"Bugsy, you're last on Sunday." Lance murmured, ignoring his initial question—though it had been more of a retort.

"Lance." Morty spoke directly again from behind me. "Bugsy has a point. What about Pryce?"

The ice trainer was stoic, grim despite the obvious distaste in his eyes. Was it because out of all the gyms his was the most hazardous? That couldn't be since Clair's like to knock you around and threaten to dump you into lava—which was fake but still terrifying. Did Pryce's old age get him approved for that specially? I couldn't imagine the elderly leader complaining about being inspected… and yet he seemed to disapprove of this topic just while talking about it.

"Morty, Pryce has been a gym leader the longest, he's devoted more time and energy to training that anyone of us…" Lance spoke quietly, making me wonder what Morty's eyes reflected. Hate? Anger? The desire to glance back at him stung like a beedrill in my heart, but I held steady.

"Then he gets a free ride right?" The ghost trainer growled behind me. "That makes all our odds worse."

"Morty please."

"No Lance, where is your common sense? Just because you don't have a gym to worry about! Do you not understand that that is our life? Without our gyms we're nothing."

"Stand down Morty."

"Fuck you Lance, you fucking prick."

"TAKE YOUR SEAT!" Lance snarled, his normally carefully composed face twisting into that of an angry dragon. You could nearly see the steam coming out of his ears and the embarrassment on his face. He was red, pinching the bridge of his nose because he knew that Morty was right. I silently thanked the ghost trainer for having such demanding and blunt accusations.

"Lance you need to get laid." Clair sniffed in the awkward silence.

"Shut up Clair."

"Well Morty is correct." Pryce rumbled from his spot between Jasmine and Chuck, who hadn't so much as said a word the whole time. It seemed the fighting trainer had changed very much since the first time I met him. He used to be loud and friendly and welcoming, and lately it seemed he was nothing but distracted or out of reach.

"I would like an inspection as well." Pryce bowed his head to the dragon trainer. "To make it fair."

Bugsy let out a slightly more relieved sigh, but I was not fool enough to believe that Pryce now had a better chance of losing his gym to the rest of us. If he could stop the inspection coming to him in the first place then surely he could stop anyone daring to take his gym away from him.

It also hurt me to know that I was so desperate I wanted Pryce to have a chance at losing as well. Normally I would have agreed with Lance and said that Pryce—being an elder of ours—deserved better, but not now… not while it was me in this position. I swallowed awkwardly, knowing that if it were my father sitting in this seat right now he would be calmly addressing the gym leaders with suggestions and ideas to making things fair and uniform. He would have held all their attention because he was just that kind of man, and he would have respectfully allowed for the other gym leaders to speak if they pleased. I felt small within myself, hugging Zephyr closer to my chest because there was no way I would ever live up to be that kind of leader that my father way. At the time Pryce and him had held these meetings because they were the eldest and most respected, but of course after my father died Pryce stood down and Lance moved in to take over. Only lance was no leader… one hell of a trainer and battler, but not a leader…

"Pryce we'll have an inspector out Sunday with Bugsy then as well…" Lance leaned over and made a small checkmark on his paper, humming softly to himself with a slight crease between his eyes. We all stared, the room so silent that the scratching of his pen actually sounded loud in my ears.

Something had gone terribly wrong since last meeting... Jasmine was not herself, she was… hollow. Chuck was losing his charisma, Bugsy looked worried over losing him as a friend, and Pryce was giving Chuck the dirtiest looks. I swallowed, hating this atmosphere with a passion.

And then there was Morty and I…

Shit…

Dammit!

I glanced in his direction for a second—a mere second—and was suddenly lost in those violet eyes, his taut lips parted ever so slight as he looked to have been about to say something. My heart stopped in that moment, and sparks flew, throwing me back to Christmas Eve where I sat on my bed in tears and telling him to leave. I felt my eyes narrow with wetness as he blinked pleadingly at me.

iPlease take me back Falkner… please Sweetheart… I love you/i

I couldn't hear his thoughts but I knew that was what he was thinking because it had been on my voicemail for days, haunting me like the boot steps in my house at night while my father prowled around, unable to rest in peace like the man deserved. A shivered rolled up my spine as Morty shifted, ever so slightly so that no one would notice, and stretched his hand forward as if he was making move to grip mine.

I pulled my arms up and folded my on the long table under Zephyr, squeezing my eyes shut and burying my face into Zephyr because there was just nothing else I could do.

iI'm sorry Morty… I love you… I just can't… be with you./i

Suddenly everything was too tense, and my body was too hot and I couldn't handle myself anymore. Tears flashes like lightening in my eyes and I suddenly found myself jumping up, tearing the chair out from behind me and half running away from the group.

"I—I have to leave. I'm sorry." I retorted before my throat could close over with grief. Zephyr woke as small warm salty drops fell onto him, and I was greeted with a harsh peck to the windpipe because he was taking advantage of what I asked him to do—if I looked at Morty.

"Falkner… Dammit Falkner!"

I rounded the corner swiftly, ignoring the sound of Morty's feet behind me as I broke into an unsteady run down the velvet red hallway. I couldn't handle it. I just couldn't bear to look him in the eyes and know that I had ruined so much. I couldn't take this guilt…

"You can't ignore me forever!" Morty snarled a moment before reaching me and snatching my wrist in his large hand. I was jerked backwards violently.

I couldn't take it. I couldn't make this decision all over again. I didn't want to have to choose between loving Morty so much it hurt… and disobeying my dead father so much it killed ME.

"Let me go!" I tore myself away from him. "I—I'm sorry! B—But I can't!"

"No Falkner!" He surprised me by being terribly angry. His eyes pierced me like darts would flying into a bullseye, or lightening would strike a metal rod, or a bird would randomly dive bomb and rip your hair out for nesting material. I shuddered under his hand squeezing mine so tightly that it cut off circulation to my fingers.

"You can." Morty hissed. "You know damn straight you can, you just choose not to."

"You want me to go against everything my father ever wanted for me!" I was suddenly yelling back, unable to control my voice as even the other gym leader trickled out of the room far on the other end of the hall. I caught a glimpse of them looking at us, Lance pushing his was through only to be stopped by Clair who landed a fist on his chest and told him to stay out of it.

"Wanted for you?!" Morty bared his teeth, gripping me tighter. "YOUR FATHER IS FUCKING SELFISH!"

"HE IS NOT. HE DID EVERYTHING FOR ME!"

"IF HE CARED ABOUT YOU HE WOULD LET YOU LOVE ME!"

"LET GO OF ME MORTY!"

Zephyr launched himself from my jacket suddenly, screeching in my defense and lashing out at the ghost trainer with his small talons. I gasped as Morty released me, swatting Zephyr aside as I hit the ground in a sudden blur, having been tugging too hard against Morty and not having enough time to catch myself. I grunted, feeling hysterics coming on as Zephyr landed on my lap, hissing and flapping his wings angrily.

Morty stared down at me, large scratches scoring his arms and drooling scarlet blood in slow, tiny streams. I rolled to my left in just enough time to see Lance had broken away from Clair and rammed Morty up against the wall.

"Hey! What the fuck Morty!" Lance demanded, shoving the equally strong male away and giving him a death glare.

"L—Lance stop!" I cried out as Clair stuck her hand out to me. I took it and stood, holding Zephyr closely in my arms like a baby while my knees trembled. I was in so much shock that I had actually stopped crying. My face was still streaked, but I was too terrified to actually weep.

"M—Morty…" I whimpered as the ghost trainer tore away from the others, sending them all down with murderous stairs as he sauntered off, head low and shoulders slumped forward darkly. I watched for as long as I could until the gym leaders all started crowding around me, concealing his back from my view as he was heading towards the courtyard rather than the actual exit.

"Are you alright kid?" Chuck reached out to touch me on the shoulder, but was slapped away by Pyrce.

"Fine." I huffed, breathless and feeling nauseous.

"Falkner you better stay here tonight…" Lance murmured. "There are plenty of open rooms and the snow is really falling hard right now."

I knew Lance was trying to tell me that I was in no condition to be on my own tonight because I was so obviously unstable. I was actually thankful for the offer, considering that the last thing I wanted to do was spend another sleepless night in my house that was slowly becoming less and less of a home. I nodded to him, trembling.

"O—ohkay."

"What the hell happened between you two?" Bugsy scoffed from behind Chuck. He was always the last person to know about things like this.

"Shuddap bug!" Clair slapped him.

He moaned in response, sulking away like a scolded child as Lance gestured for me to follow him.

"Do you want me to write up an incident report?" The trainer suggested.

I shook my head. "N—No. Don't… I—I't was my fault."

Lance nodded slowly as Clair caught up to us, her hooker boots thudding softly against the carpet. "Seriously Falky Baby." She through an arm around my shoulder. "Vagina trap… I'm telling you!"

"Go away Clair!" Lance hissed.

I shrugged away from her as he spoke, saying nothing but leaving her and the other gym leaders behind as Lance made motions to the ladies at the front desk to fill me into a room. I hugged Zephyr closer, happy to find that at least when I needed a best friend most he was here for me.

"Th-thanks Buddy." I stifled another round of sobs into his soft feathers.

He chirped at me, a sound that said iyeah yeah cry baby/i, but I knew it was only out of love.

"Room 06" Lance said as we approached the end of another hall, this time stopping at an elevator door. "Top floor. There is a phone in the room, call it if you need anything."

I nodded. "Tha—thank you."

"Hang in there kid." Lance nudged me on the shoulder, revealing that side of him that was so often hidden behind his quarrels with Clair and other gym leaders. "You're heart will work this out."

I blinked at him as he turned and walked away from me, glancing over his caped shoulder once more.

What did he mean by that? My heart would work this out… He didn't even know what me and Morty had been through together…

I sniffled as the elevator doors opened, revealing a gold colored box with a side that was completely windows. I stepped in hesitantly and hit the button to the top floor before peering through the glass that revealed the courtyard below. My chest tightened, and my wrist stung from where Morty had gripped me so harshly. I looked down at it to see four precise, long finger marks, and I never felt so alone.

"I—I'm sorry…" I wept against the glass, finding Morty's shape in the canvas of powdery white snow below me as I moved up, further and further away from him. He sat in the middle of where neatly cut grass would have been if winter hadn't covered it with its slush.

"I'm so sorry Morty…" I sunk to my knees against the glass, unable to bare standing while I took this long ride up to the top floor, feeling like no one could quite understand how much my father meant to me. He was my upbringing for seventeen long years. I would be nothing without that man. And yet I felt like nothing without Morty as well…

"I still love you." I pawed at the glass as my breath fogged it up.

"I'll always love you…"


	48. Chapter 48

~Falkner~

Inspections day… it all came so fast and I was so unprepared that the world seemed to be crumbling in on me all at once. I had lost Morty, I had broken another beam in trying desperately to fix an already broken one, and I had lost it over and over again, hearing those footsteps in my house and even cursing at my father, damning him to hell even though I hadn't the slightest clue where he was at the time. All I knew was that he was there, somewhere, watching me because I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I worked, silently scolding or praising me I would never know… but he was there.

I had called him a fucking natural disaster and told him to fucking leave me the fuck alone because at the very least I should be able to freak the fuck out in peace… only an hour later I recoiled and apologized to my dead father—hoping he could hear me—and tried to move on with my life. By this time the inspector had come as well, and actually kicked me out of my gym while they did their work because I was so quick to make promises and give them excuses for why this place was falling apart. It was hell to have to walk out on my gym, and the only thing I could think of to get my mind off of it was a strenuous activity that would keep me focused.

I found myself in the largest field outside of Violet city—not the one I usually went to with my father's grave—and I had gathered all my equipment to try and break the everlasting Renegade. I thought maybe if I did I could have a piece of myself back… or at the very least not feel like I was drowning in failure. I wanted to know that I still had it in me.

"Zephyr, stay out of the way." I plopped the pudgy pokemon down on a small boulder. "Watch after Lego."

The musical little song bird named Legato had filled my house with lovely music in the last few days, making things bearable as I worked, just barely holding on while every tweet felt like a nail being driven into my heart. I loved the sound, I loved the message she portrayed in a voice that was so unlike any other birds, I loved everything about her and more… however the fact that she was able to twist me into a sprawling mess of emotions because she was a constant reminder of Morty… it truly bothered me. I was at my wits ends, trying to cope with what had happened that night at the league meeting, and all I could do was sit there a suffer because she was just too damn sweet and melodic to ignore. I had even cut her name down to size to fit her utterly adorable ways. For some reason everything iLegato/i rolled off my tongue, it came out as iLego/i on accident, and so it stuck.

The tiny Chatot turned her face up to me, twitching in worry because last time I left Zephyr with any kind of responsibility over her she wound up cowering and hissing at him for trying to mate with her. I was well aware that this may be just a surface scratch though, since I had caught Lego fluffing up her feathers around him once or twice—flirting self consciously in her youth. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that when Lego got bigger and Zephyr got more mature—IF he got more mature—they would be mates.

I beckoned Jake over with a hand as he was scouting ahead, looking across the milky clouds and calling down with loud harsh whistles of excitement. Out of all the birds I owned Jake could fly the highest up into the atmosphere, and he loved to come swooping back down like a bullet as if he was going to perform a trick for an audience watching. I envied that bird's speed and wished he was large enough for me to fly with him because the adrenaline would simply blow my mind.

Pride came over in a the same gesture, flapping his massive black wings with long strokes as he landed smoothly, his shoulders back and chest out because he truly was the most proud bird I had ever raised. His eyes reflected a sudden wicked desire to battle, and I knew that as long as he was ready, Renegade wouldn't stand much of a chance. The Bravairy had put up plenty of fight before, but I knew what to expect now and after weeks and weeks of watching it on what I called a "bird leash", which was basically a loose but hardy wire around their foot as they went on with their daily lives—safely away from the rest of my already trained birds. I felt like all the downtime I had around this bird—though it wasn't much—had created a stronger look into its mind. Renegade was a simply bird despite its obvious hate for humans, and I knew that if I could tap into the reasons why I would soon be able to fly with him.

Mama Bird was laying behind Zephyr and Lego now, her frail bones rising and falling in her old age as she breathed peacefully, though not asleep because she didn't want to give Zephyr the chance to mate with Lego. Mama Bird had been on her baby's tail feathers for the last week, scolding him more than often, pecking at him when he tried to get the Chatot to eat honey with him out of the trees, and then later with other more troublesome things.

Jake landed on my shoulder thickly, crashing into my chest because he was not the best at landing. I gripped him tightly as he pushed his face into my neck, an obvious hug.

"I'm fine buddy." I said to the sensitive bird, who had been by my side more often lately, watching me as if he could sense that something was making my skin crawl. I held him against me for a moment until he scrambled off, bouncing on the ground to Mama Bird's side and looking back at me with his handsome face. This was the first time I seemed to notice just how much the swellow had grown in the last few months. He was a worthy, artful bird and I couldn't be more proud as he settled with the others quietly, leaving the battlefield to be and Pride and Renegade.

The enormous wild bird was sedated in his pokeball right now, radiating an aura of passion and rebellion as I unclipped him from my belt and took a deep breath. There was an obvious mental state of mind I had to be in for this breaking to go right… and I found that the more I thought about it the more I truly WAS ready. It had been so long since me and this bird sparred, and while I had to be kicked out of my house for the inspection, there was nothing better to do.

"Brace yourself Pride." I sniffed curtly, taking a step back and then hurling the ball forward as far as I could, away from my birds where it landed with a thud and burst into a glorious white light, revealing the scarred warrior from Unova. Renegade, disoriented for a mere second, glanced in our direction and screeched one hell of a wail.

I jumped on Pride, settling myself swiftly and taking off with him, laying flat on his back with my hands gripping his shoulders as his wide wingspan stretched our beneath me. The thrill of flight struck me for a brief moment as we ascended, matching the run-away bravairy pace for pace as he also rose to the challenge.

I had brought ropes with me this time, rather than the usual equipment in hopes that I could actually get myself ON the wild bird without him trying to fight Pride. It was probably stupid and more dangerous since Renegade's attention would be more focused on me… but I couldn't say I truly cared. This could be a suicide mission I was attempting… but if all went well I knew that I could bring myself out of this depression for a little while.

Howling eagerly and Pride screeching with me we rounded on the wild bird, swooping in and out while I examined its massive form. Even larger than Pride himself, Renegade was truly inspiring. He was a milky white color, with tints of red and blue and brown feathers here and there, and a wide hooked, scarred beak between his forward fronted eyes. Everything about this bird screamed hunter, and I knew it was the type that would make a meal of smaller birds like pidgeys. Shivering at the thought I righted myself so that one hand was free with a rope.

"Closer Pride!" I held tight as we neared the larger warrior, the two eyeing each other with great hatred. I grit my teeth, adjusting the rope and leaning slightly to the left while Pride hauled to the right for balance.

"You can't win Renegade!" I screamed past the howling of wind in my ears as the two birds suddenly made a sharp turn. I wobbled, gasping and finding that Pride's slick feathers did not help much in this situation. The air whipped between mine and Pride's body for a split second, catching on my jacket and stomping on my stomach as if it was never going to leap again. Pride reverted back as I just barely managed to loop the rope—non-threatening but still strong—around one of Renegade's large talons. The bird screeched an earsplitting sound, echoing through the field from below and dancing through the winter stripped trees.

"BACK UP PRIDE!" I felt my single clutching hand rip out a handful of feathers in desperation as suddenly Renegade was not flying away from us, but flying into us. The tables turned quickly, and I narrowly avoided getting my wrist slashes in a bloody battle between two dominant birds. Renegade caught Pride off guard however, and we descended too quickly, making due for a rough and sudden landing with my hanging on for dear life. I snarled, still gripping the end of the rope that connected the Bravairy to the Staraptor.

My feet had mere a second to touch the ground before Pride was rising like a black fallen angel into the sky again, and Renegade recoiled with a shuddering attack. I wasn't sure just what hit us then, but it felt like a cross between a tornado and death. Feathers flew and blood exploded from my shoulder as a beak snapped the skin back to leave a fleshy pink and spurting wound. I screamed in panic, but was far too sucked into the adrenalin to feel anything. There was no pain as the air fight reached the clouds again.

Vertically in the sky Pride and Renegade battles each other, a fluster of moving and harmful talons while I huffed and puffed, trying to force my lungs to adjust to the sudden altitude and finding it very, very difficult. I tugged on the rope with one arm—my bloody arm—and felt rope burn sizzling under my palm. Had I been a smarter individual I would have brought my gloves for this, but I hadn't expected to be holding the weight of such a creature myself.

My body felt like it was being split in half as Pride jerked one way, flapping madly trying just to keep my steady so I wouldn't fall, and also trying to fight back as Renegade overpowered him in strength. Renegade made the hasty decision to retreat at that moment then it seemed, seeing as though Pride was losing and submitting. This was the worst possible thing that could have happened to me, seeing as though the two immense birds went opposite ways, and the rope hadn't enough slack from where I held it and it was tied around my shoulder—cutting into the wound and making it worse. I gasped as Pride vanished from beneath me, and within an instant I was dangling by my own hands from a rope eighty or so feet in the air, gasping because the numbness of adrenaline wore off and the pain was splitting.

I choked on my own blood as it trickled down from my shoulder to my own face, my legs circling as if they weighed forty pounds each. Though I had never been strong in the shoulders particularly, I thanked my lucky stars that my lanky arms had climbed numerous things before, and even in this situation I was able to drag myself upwards. My bones rattled with effort as I held my breath, avoiding the huge clutching claws of Renegade as my weight dragged him off balance from flight. He was screeching in horror, whirling around and heading back in a large loop. From a ways off I could see where Jake had risen and was traveling like lightening to my rescue.

He was such a docile bird though; I couldn't bear to see his beautiful shape mangled beneath the talons of this beast above me.

"NO JAKE!" I screamed at the swellow. "NO!"

Renegade launched an attack that sent my bird hurdling towards earth in wobbly, disorienting flaps. I was splashes with hot, thin bird blood, my head spinning as I saw Jake crash to the ground, staining the snow a terrible crimson. I cursed, straining and pulling my hand up just enough to latch it around one of Renegade's nails. The bird slashed at me with tits remaining foot, landing awkward blows on the top of my head as I reached up to grab a handful of feathers from the backs of his wing. The bird wailed bloody murder, flipping upside down and splitting the sound barrier in its speed. The air grew tighter in my lungs and before I knew it I was holding my breath, preparing to make the final lurch up onto the bird back.

A familiar screech cut me off however, and from extreme heights I saw another of my faithful birds rising to my rescue. My heart leapt from my chest as I recognized the chestnut bird with graying feathers long before she even reached us.

"MAMA BIRD NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as Renegade rounded again, finding its challenger. "STAND DOWN! NO! MAMA NO!"

iNO!/i

I screamed so loud my voice actually cut off, and knowing that the Pidgeot would never stop when her baby was in danger, I did perhaps the most idiotic and stupid thing.

I let go…

Rope zipped out of my fingertips, and blood floated past me in lovely crimson drops as my weight pulled down with the help of gravity. Lovely, painless gravity. I had always imagined birds to be the only creatures able to defy gravity, whether or not it had to do with air pressure and light bones or whatever. I still liked to dream.

Free falling was the second most exhilarating thing I had ever experience—only second to cumming under Morty's hand for the first time. In all honestly it was the equivalence of an orgasm; shaking, withering, crumbling muscle and aches and blood…so much blood that fell as I managed to peek at my gushing, wet shoulder. I would need stitches for sure, but all that could come later… after I hit the ground.

iMama Bird… Mama don't fight for me/i I thought as tears slipped their way up out of my eyelids and glittered past me like bubbles would underwater.

I didn't try to fight free falling in the slightest.

I actually liked it… Only I wished I would grow wings and fly myself, in order to save an innocent life from being lost in a snowy field of blood. My mind settled on thinking of Pride, and where he had retreated to. To Jake who would always be a fearful but brave bird. To Mama Bird… who would die for her baby in a heartbeat.

I thought back to my life as I fell, all of about a split second. Things flashing like lightening because there was only so many memories to be remembered. My neck rolled with the wind, hair wiping past my face in a bloody clumped mess. I thought about my father, and every single word of advice he had given me in this short lifetime we shared together. I thought about how much it hurt when he passed, and how much I wished he had been there every moment of this crazy journey I took to become a gym leader. I thought about how often my mind went back to him and begged for forgiveness to this guilt ridden life I was living. I felt emotions stir inside me that I hadn't in a very, very long time.

I thought about Morty… and how much I loved him and wanted to be with him and how much it killed me to know that I had been the one that ruined what we had together. I thought about the first time he kissed me, and the first time I kissed him. I thought about the numerous times he had made me laugh or called me Sweetheart or begged for sex. I pictured his face in my mind… losing the battle of consciousness to the lifting weight below me.

I must have hit the ground already… I must have lost the battle called life and was rising with an angle to the skies where I would be a bird for the rest of my days. I felt as though I was falling backwards, suddenly, a piercing squeal ringing in my heart and vibrating violently from the depths in side whatever heart beat below me.

The ground was no where beyond my foggy vision now, and all I could feel was blood lapping at the tear in my jacket and spilling over.

Another screech.

Then another, this time pained with agony.

My eyes lolled, fighting the darkness beyond my lids until a flash of chestnut feathers was there again, straining against my limp shape.

Mama Bird hadn't the strength to lift me anymore… there was no logic that involved this to be happening… and yet it most certainly was a Pidgeot below me, and Mama Bird's voice near my ears.

I forced my eyes open into slits, lashes fluttering as a span of wings made for a sprawled out body to lay, carried me in swift movements. We were rising and falling now, descending with the weight of the wind and carefully, ever so carefully touching ground. Mama Bird's face appeared before me, and I suddenly realized that everything I had been thinking was wrong.

Mama Bird had not carried me down to earth, but another Pidgeot had. Certainly not wild… but…

"FALKNER!" I familiar and distant voice called out to me as I rolled into the snowy ground, shaking and fighting in and out of reality. My eyes dodged the faces around me until I could see them looking to the sky where a very powerful Bravairy was making his escape.

I saw Pride out of the corner of my eye, preparing to lunge and bring the bird back to me, so that we could try and break it another day.

"St—Stop." I rasped as Mama Bird pressed her face against my side, breathing heavily in panic. My throat was raw from where my screams had silenced it before. "Le—let him go."

Pride stopped and looked back at me, eyes intense as blood dripped off him in thick blobs. The sight was mortifying itself, and Jake was nowhere to be seen.

"Falkner! Oh shit Falkner!" I couldn't pinpoint just who was calling me, but I knew whoever it was had addressed me at some point before. My head lolled as I watched a mere speck in the sky disappear, knowing that suddenly the problems in my life didn't seem so vital.

The Braviary I received at the beginning of Autumn was no bird to be broken. I understood that now. I understood that it was never going to stoop to captivity. It was a wild spirit; it belonged in the world as a warrior. I swallowed a mouthful of blood and parted my lips to rasp a slight sigh.

I envied Renegade because that's exactly what he was… he was a renegade and he was free. His wings would never be clipped.

My heart ached as a sudden pair of frantic emerald eyes loomed over me, applying pressure to my shoulder wound and panting. The noises around me died out at last, and I lay there in peace with agony wishing that I was free as a renegade.

For the first time I realized that I was far more trapped than I thought I was…

Blackness engulfed me…

And my wings were clipped.


	49. Chapter 49

~Morty~

Standing in an Ecruteak store of exotics I raped the shelves of their dried sage, bundling the harsh smelling things into a basket and scanning for any certain type of lighter or matches for spiritual rituals.

Normally I was not the type of person to perform such acts on ghosts, because they were people at one point… and getting rid of a ghost always felt more like killing it to me than "setting it free". Desperate people used these techniques on their houses to ease their sensitive children's nightmares at night, and whilst I had only ever done it once, I was prepared to do it now.

As a child there was always a ghost that haunted me, often licking me in the middle of the night and waking me up with a dark inky black residue. It would leave marks on my arms resembling dried tar, and would flake off within a few days, leaving my skin silky smooth as if I had just been treated. At the time I had been rebelling against believing in ghosts, so I figured that was the reason all along, that they were coming to me to prove that they were real because I was their friend and no one else understood them from the living world. However I didn't see it that way in time, and what ended up happening was me burning sage while they were in my presence, and literally burning them away with the smoke.

I stared at the dried stalks bitterly as I walked up to the counter, approaching an elderly lady with a Persian sitting on her lap. She was hiding her blind eyes behind pairs of black glasses, but knew exactly who I was and where I stood as I set my things on the counter.

"Sage." She croaked. "My dearest, Morty what spirit troubles you?"

"That's none of your business ma'am." I said wistfully, pulling out well over the price of the sage and setting it on the counter. "You keep the change…"

"You be careful Morty." She mumbled to me, her blind eyes somehow catching mine in the dark lowly lit shop. "Remember every ghost had a family… every ghost had a reason to live."

I turned away without a world, stopping at the paper bags on the counter and dumping my new weapons inside with a snort. I knew damn well about ghosts and families. I knew just how much real ghosts loved and lived and suffered because they could see what their families couldn't. I knew what I was doing… I knew that it was wrong…

After the first time I killed a ghost with sage I vowed I would never do it again… but this time it was personal. Walter Hayato was not resting in peace like he should be, and his son was suffering because of it. I had seen his bedroom light on in the middle of the night, I had see Falkner sitting up in bed crying, I had watched for the last week because he never answered my calls and there was simply nothing else I could do but crawl to his house gym every night and listen to his father snarl and spit at me.

I had taken a liking to ignoring the man, and he knew it as well. He hated it.

But I hated him… and upon further dedication to saving Falkner so many creepy feelings and noises in the middle of the night, I was going to eliminate him. Walter Hayato's ghost would be no more, and Falkner would finally realize that he was alone and that he could truly be mine.

Fuck I loved him so much… so much I wanted to lock him up in chains and never let him fly free.

Cursing to myself I left the shop, knowing that I was wrong for wanting t do this to Falkner. It wasn't right to want to cage anything, let alone a human being, but I didn't exactly have many options. Suppose this was the "psychotic" stage in a relationship, where I was going through such withdrawals that I physically was unable to handle myself anymore. My gym was immaculate, Gengar's training was at top percent, I had eating all the fucking pistachios… there was just nothing else I could do to keep myself busy. I knew I had to get rid of Falkner's father.

However, things did not go as planned since I was so fucking guilty that on the way home I stopped at the railroad tracks to see Shauntal's mother, and the woman had seen the sage and taken it the wrong way. She fled from me and after than I felt so utterly wretched inside that I ended up throwing the paper bag of dried leaves away and giving up, because eliminating Falkner's father truly was not going to help. Falkner had to leave the nest on his own. This was his problem to sort out… and if that meant that he wasn't going to include me in it… well then so be it I would include myself.

I vowed that the next time I saw that navy boy I could grip him by the ass and throw him over my shoulder kicking and screaming. I would dump him in my bed, tie him up and make such hot lusty sex to him that he would have to love me because there was simply no other option to denying my perfect body. And by perfect I meant toned and sharp and thick with muscles because the gym and beating up Eusine every time I saw him there was putting me in top physical condition. Like my gym I was immaculate. Even my cock had rimmed over with veiny muscle over the last two weeks.

I dropped the key to my gym when I got back, and cursed up a storm as the lock stuck and Gengar stalled on answering. Today had been an unsuccessful shit bag and I wanted nothing more to do that to go sleep off all the anxiety in my heart. I scolded Gengar when he finally answered the damn door, raising my voice as it slipped open, revealing a pair of stocky legs before me, and as I looked up…

"H—hey Morty!" Gold—fucking sexy seventeen year old—was in my house?

I stared, dumbfounded by his smirk and pushing away the desire to slap him upside the head.

"What. The. Fuck." I blinked, looking around the kid at Gengar, who cowered slightly, twiddling his fingers and pleading for me to be nice with large orange eyes that resembled the tiny flames scattered about my rooms. Lately more and more of them had been going out, blinking away like my sanity on the cold restless nights.

"I—I uhh… Your Gengar let me in so I made myself at home."

"Fuck you, get the fuck out of my house." I snarled, trying to remember just what had happened at that club night a few weeks ago. Falkner had said Gold blew a load because of me and him, and the look on his face proved that he was thinking the same thing. I looked at his crotch blatantly, seeing that it was packed even limp under his tight jeans.

"Morty I want to talk." Gold suggested, moving out of my doorway as if this was HIS house and I was being invited in. I curled my lip in distaste.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"But it's about Falkner…"

"Now I REALLY don't want to talk to you. Get the fuck out of my house."

Gold crossed his arms, leaning against my wall casually and perching his lips. He was wearing dark jeans and a burgundy sweatshirt that accented his honey eyes and tinted skin nicely. It was apparent that the kid knew how to dress himself, and as much as I appreciated that, I still didn't want to talk to him.

"Falkner told me what happened at the meeting." Gold said quietly after a moment, making my stomach lurch with hate.

"Don't fucking speak of that meeting with me." I faced him square on, eyes lowering as he merely glared back at me, only a slight bit shorter with a pout that read a thousand words on his face. I hated how cute his lips were, and how attractive he was without even trying. It was like looking in a mirror at my opposite, yet still seeing me.

Talk of that horrendous meeting made me want to stab myself and twist repeatedly. I was an absolute mess without Falkner, and so when I had seen him a few days ago I had jumped on him, saying things that I didn't want to say aloud in replacement of the script I had written in my head. Everything had come out so wrong… and he had taken everything so harshly that I made him cry.

Of course it wasn't the first time I had made Falkner cry… but I still did it and I still hated myself for it. He was supposed to be my Sweetheart and he was slowly slipping away.

"Morty you said some pretty shitty things." Gold huffed. "But Falkner loves you…"

"He loves that bastard of a man, his father too." I bared my teeth, leaning forward until my hand was beside his head against the wall, and I was leaning forward, completely unashamed of such sexual attraction when I couldn't so much as get Falkner to consider me at the moment. He wasn't willing to talk but maybe Gold could reason.

"What are you his shoulder to cry on?" I hissed, staring into those ocher eyes. "Does his father not mind you? Is it because you don't have a dick?"

I hated to admit it to myself, but I was terribly jealous of Gold and the friendship he had with Falkner at the moment. Had we still been together Gold would have been nothing but a nice little side dish on a plate of sex, and I wouldn't have minded such a luxurious boy being a part of us. However now that Falkner was no longer mine I felt as though Gold was intruding on something far more personal.

"I've a hell of a lot bigger dick than you… if you think that me and Falkner have something you're wrong. I came here to find out why the hell you aren't trying to I fix what you and Falkner have!"

I flinched; as if this whole thing was my fault. I had called Falkner every night for a week waiting, desperately waiting for him to pick up the phone and tell me that things were going to be ok. That he was going to accept my begging and take me back because he loved me and love should be far more powerful than your parents consent. I was fucking trying my hardest and nothing was working out, and here was Gold to come barging in like the sex-oozing manwhore he was and tell me how Falkner was feeling.

I didn't need him to draw me a picture to know what Falkner was just as miserable as I was, just for a different reason.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch Gold." I leaned in, slithering against his ear. "You don't understand and yet you are trying to be a part of it. What about your about pretty little redhead? Don't you have better dicks to suck than mine?"

"I wouldn't suck your dick if it was the last dick on earth Morty." Gold turned his face to mine, lips pulled back in an ever so slight snarl, grazing my cheek with his teeth.

"And yet you are thoroughly attracted to me." I bit his lower lip, breathing thickly. "I fucking hate your guts Gold, and that makes me want to fuck you senseless."

He made a faint hissing sort of sound at me, nostrils flaring and mouth hot as a slithering tongue slipped into the corner of my lips. I pushed my tongue out ever so softly to greet his, raising my hand and placing it heavily on his warm bulbous crotch. The only thing I could picture in my head was Falkner, despite an obvious size difference between the two of them. It was so hard to imagine though when all you wanted was the real thing. Surely Gold felt the same way about his lover as well.

And yet we sucked lips so rashly, so seductively while pawing at each other it literally hurt not to be erect. His was up in seconds, while mine took a little more coaxing in its dormant state. I hadn't been hard since Christmas Eve before Falkner and I broke up, and so the rhythmic strokes Gold pushed upon me felt like much needed stress reliever.

I grunted. "What else did Falkner say about that meeting?"

Gold unzipped my pants while my hand was undoing the belt he wore slowly, slipping it out of the loops and tossing to the floor where it rattled.

"Maybe if you suck my cock I'll tell you." Gold suggested half joking as I unzipped and spread the fold in his boxers back, using two hands to bring forth the massive, swollen organ that sprung like an unpredictable radar, gasping at my fingertips as I prodded the tip and its two tiny holes with my thumb. Gold also gasped, nipping at my neck as we grinded together, his back up against the wall.

"You'll tell me now." I hitched one of his legs up as Gold slipped my dick out of my jeans and let it stand at attention proudly in the warm musky room. I held him at an angle where every one of my strokes lapped at his balls and made them twitch with excitement. Gold suckled on my throat, my neck, pulling my hair and battling tongues with me while I palmed at his underside, pushing jean material up until his asshole throbbed below the material. It was obvious Gold was no stranger to sex, especially in the way his face looked so seductive. I wouldn't be surprised if he had spent hours jacking off in a mirror and making faces at himself to impress whoever his lover would end up to be.

"Suck it." Gold growled throatily as my hand slipped up his chest to his perfect perked nipple. I pinched and twisted, using my other hand to slide both our dicks back and forth together against each other while the dry hump became more of a dry rape. Our hips collided, smothering us together until I was grunting and Gold was gasping.

"Suck it Morty!" Gold scratched the backs of my arms as if he was a cat clawing at a tree. I groaned slightly.

"You don't last long do you?" I knelt my head down and spat into the palm of my hand, taking the saliva and slicking our erections with it. Gold felt this sudden wet hotness and worked up a flood of clear pre-cum. It drooled on mine slowly, even though I felt no climaxing or even any progress. I was hard as a rock but I wasn't going anywhere with it. My dick seemed to know exactly who's body I was fondling.

"Fuck." Gold let his head loll against the wall. "What are you a fucking expert?"

My hand twisted smoothly against, pumping each stroke with harsh little squeezes, slowing when he thought I would speed up, and cradling his heavy balls when he thought I would rub his thighs. This was the only reason I was so good at this; because I was unpredictable.

"Shuddap." I bit him roughly.

"I—I should kick your ass for this."

We kissed feverishly, with no love whatsoever, just a whole lot of hate. Not even that I truly hated Gold… I just hated that he was in touch with Falkner and I wasn't.

"F—Falkner is going t break down soon!" Gold grunted. "He—he can't handle it. He needs you."

"He pushes me away." I raked my hand up and down on Gold's cock. "Fucking cum boy."

"He hates himself!" Gold yelped. "Arceus your hand is so hot!"

"Convince him to take me back." I spit down on his dick again, pumping harder as he rocked his pelvis up against mine.

"Fuck!"

"Do it!"

Gold jerked forward, mouth open in a silent wail as thick spurts of cum danced between us like a water show, flicking back and forth on our clothes and dripping down my hand. I pushed my tongue into Gold's mouth again, squeezing the base of his cock and slowly pushing up until the last of his molten liquids had come out. He continued to jerk for a moment, leaning against me almost as if he really liked me, but cursing in my ear as I tantalized the orgasm with more strokes.

"Shit…shit…" Gold panted. "Yo—you did that in less than five minutes."

I stuffed his slimy hard back into his pants and zipped him up swiftly, catching a few of his pubic hairs and making him flinch.

"Listen to me you." I gripped his chin and stared into those lusty ocher eyes, seeing as though he reflected passionate hot sex and nothing more. Gold seemed to ooze sex as he leaned against the wall before me. I brushed my cum covered fingers past his lips, waiting as he suckled each one carefully, tongue slithering and pulling away with an equal ipop/i each time. He sighed shakily.

"You convince Falkner." I kissed his throat. "I don't care how you do it kid. Just make him mine again."

Gold seemed to find himself then and slipped away from me, smearing in the white stains on his shirt with disgust because he would have to go out in public like that. He nodded at me, but spoke with as much dignity as he could.

"You better try to convince him yourself." Gold muttered. "You're just as much to blame."

I slapped his ass hard as he turned back towards my front door. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"It's my pleasure… asshole." He rubbed his backside carefully.

"Faggot."

"Bastard." I gripped him and planted one last kiss on his mouth before shoving him out onto my front porch.

Shit. I may love Falkner with all my heart. But there was just no denying it…

Gold was a fucking sex monster.


	50. Chapter 50

~Falkner~

"Green… how did you find me?" I asked as the ex gym leader leaned over, swabbing at my newly stitched shoulder with a gauze pad soaked in foul smelling medicine that reminded me of bleach. It stung like no one's business, but not nearly as much as the open wound had before Green stitched it. Apparently this guy was a medical and scientific genius like his father, the great professor Oak.

"Well we were coming to see you anyways…" Green murmured as Red shifted on my left, cuddling closer to me because he was a pure fluffy love ball when out of public eyes. I hadn't seen him before when Green found me in the field—just before I lost my life to fall from huge heights. Red smoothed down the ends of my feathery hair as Green spoke.

"Lance actually called me a few days ago…" he admitted. "I don't think you know this, but part of why I'm quitting the Viridian Gym is so that I can be a fulltime therapist."

My mouth fell open in a small gasp as Green prodded a little too harshly against my temple, soaking up the blood from a scratch matted beneath my hair.

"So Lance… wanted you to try and help me?" I didn't know whether to be insulted or warmed by the fact that the dragon trainer really cared that much. It was a little embarrassing to know that he looked at me and saw someone that weak… so weak that they needed therapy… but then again it may have just been another way to sweeten the air between Johto and Kanto, since we were merging gyms very soon. Lance hated confliction more than anything, except maybe powerful people not liking him. It was only obvious that Lance had gone to Green because it was flattery. Even so… I couldn't be mad that he did. I was happy to see the young handsome man I met at the club a few weeks ago.

"He told me the basics… But if you're willing to talk about…" Green paused while concentrating on another scratch. "I would be happy to help you."

Red nodded at me, as if to encourage me to go on with his silent words of wisdom. The crimson eyed champion blinked once and an ever so slight smile spread across his thin, pale lips. It was nothing like the bright and sunny grin from Green.

"I—I guess." I swallowed. There were a million things I thought I should be doing right now, even though I was sitting in my home with literally nothing to do. The inspection was over now, and they hadn't so much as left me a note saying how I did. I was completely in the dark, not sure if they gave me the benefit of the doubt on those broken beams, or hounded me for it being a danger. My stomach was flipping with panic despite the calming affect the two lovers had over me. Green's gentle hands stopping the bleeding while his breath blew across his cheek, and Red who leaned against my shoulder, now tracing the veins in my wrist as if they were special.

There were also numerous other things to worry about though. Like the fact that Jake was in the pokemon center being treated for shock, and Pride was there having a jammed talon taken off and replaced with an artificial one. I wasn't happy to have to send them to the center instead of treating them myself, but even I didn't know how to amputate a claw… I shivered, thinking about what the nurse had said to Red, who had taken my pokemon for me and brought the news back to me. Pride's new talon would actually be a talon that had been amputated from a Skarmory whose trainer donated the body after it died. Skarmory bones and feathers were rare because they were so hard and light at the same time. My only thought was how Pride would cope with a jutting, metal claw on his foot.

Luckily though, those two had the worst of the damage from the attack, and my beloved Mama Bird had been spared by Green's Pidgeot, who just so happened to be Zephyr's father. The bird had deflected an attack from Renegade and landed one fatal blow before sending the Bravairy flying away. I hadnt seen all that, but I knew it must have been truly something. Not even Pride was strong enough to take on Renegade.

Now Green's Pidgeot lay together with Mama Bird, cleaning the feathers around her neck gently and crooning to her while she watched me in concern. The two birds hadn't been together a long time in the summer that Zephyr was conceived, but it apparent that their love for each other was still there. Pidgeot were few of the bird pokemon that remained devoted to their mates unless they passed away. I watched the small family with a sad smile on my lips as they were sprawled out across my living room floor. Green's Pidgeot was a glorious bird that aged well and still had the strength it did when Green first evolved it. Unlike Mama Bird who had bared far too much stress in her prime to live so leisurely now.

I could also see that Zephyr was the spitting imagine of his father, as he lay curled up between his shoulder blades with Lego sitting over him, looking down curiously at the plump body of warmth. I could tell by her ever so slight song that she was giving them a lullaby.

"Falkner?" Green said suddenly, snapping me out of the emotions swirling around in my head.

"Hmm?"

"Please go on." The therapist suggested, applying slight pressure to the back of my head.

"Oh… yeah…" I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. "I—I haven't been myself lately…"

Green nodded, accepting of that.

"I—I guess I should start at the beginning."

"That would be perfect."

"It's a long story…"

"I can handle it." Green assured. "Start at the beginning."

I took another breath, leaning back slightly and curling my knees under me. My fingers were still defrosting from having been out in the snow without gloves, and even though they were raw and hot from rope burn, they were still numb.

"My father died at the beginning of this last summer… and I had my birthday at the end of summer. That's when I became the new gym leader in his place." I mumbled. "And I met Morty… and even though I knew it was wrong to… be in love with him… I still couldn't help it. We just… got really close."

"Did that frighten you?"

Red twirled his fingertip in the palm of my head as his lover asked from my other side.

"I—I't did at first. And then I gave up on trying not to love him. I accepted it, I was… happy. But then on Christmas Eve, Morty told me something… and I just…"

The emotions swelled as I remembered that terrible night a couple weeks ago. Morty and I had been so happy together up until that moment. I was just about to have sex with him for Arceus sake! And it all went downhill from there.

"Take your time." Green pulled the gauze away from my head and brushed a piece of hair down, his hand resting on my shoulder opposite to him. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he smoothes Red's eyebrow hairs flat in a gesture of awkward affection. The two made eyes contact briefly, and I could almost see the sparks fly.

I envied Green I realized, while my lip quivered ever so slightly. Him and Red were so perfect for each other, and Green was completely unattached to his gym in a sense of where he could just give it all up for the person he loved. I must be the most selfish person then… since my whole world revolved around this gym and the birds in it, and yet I still wanted Morty. I thought about what it would be like to lose my gym—to lose my childhood and my father and many, many beloved birds—and I shivered at the thought.

"Mo—Morty told me that m—my father's ghost is here…" I whispered, scanning the room for any signs of ghostly activity. Within the last week I had discovered that it was very rarely happening during the day, and that only ever at night when I wanted to sleep I could hear my father's footsteps or rough breathing. Those sounds made me tremble in bed until I was literally hiding under the covers and holding back whimpers.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Green wondered.

I nodded. "Of course I do…"

"Now… tell me, how did your father's ghost lead you to break up with Morty? Shouldn't you have been happy he told you?"

I sniffed, wiping my eyes and finding that I was actually happy to be able to tell someone all the thoughts that had been going on in my head for too long now.

"I—I was mad at him when he told me… because he'd known for a while… but it was my fault really… I was just so guilty."

"Of what?"

"For loving Morty… I—I was going to have sex with him that night… right in front of my father. That would have killed him—not literally…" I shook my head. "He's already dead but still… my father was… a serious homophobe."

Red surprised me by snorting a laugh, and Green poked him harshly in the side of the head.

"So you're worried about not having your father's consent?"

I shook my head. "I—it's more than just that. My father would disown me. He—He would never forgive me and I feel like… because he's dead… I just… I—I can't… Love Morty."

"But you do." Green drew my chin over to him, making me look into his emerald eyes as he spoke. "Falkner let me tell you something… My parents were homophobes too, especially my father. And they knew I was gay since I was five years old. Falkner they sent me away to live with my grandfather in Palet town because they refused to raise a gay child."

I bit my lip, blinking at the therapist and wondering if there was any way I could possibly compare myself to him. His father had sent him iaway/i. Just because he was gay… of course I didn't doubt that my father wouldn't do that to me if it had happened at the time, but since I wasn't gay until Morty came along I wouldn't know the feeling.

"I believe that everything happens for a reason Falkner." Green said, casting his fiancé a look of appreciation. "Had my parents not sent me away I wouldn't have met Red… and since they disapproved already I decided that I wasn't going to suffer. They knew I was gay, I knew I was gay and I was only five years old… the point I'm trying to make is that no matter how much your father hates what you do it won't change you."

I was silent… because I honestly didn't know how to react to that. Green hadn't seen his father die, he hadn't the exact same problems that I did… and yet he seemed to speak the words so true that I could only admire him.

"Falkner if you're gay now, I'm sorry to tell you but you will be gay for every single moment of your life. Whether you have someone by your side or not. And you already told me that you had come to terms with that, why does your father's opinion change it?"

Again I was silent…

"Falkner… can I ask you to tell me why you love Morty?"

I thought about it for a moment, my heat hammering awkwardly in my chest as Red whistled very softly at Lego, matching her sad song pace by pace until she came hopping over and scrambling up to him. He let her settle on his shoulder furthest to me, closing his eyes as she whispered melodies in his ear.

"I love Morty… because… I—I just do. I love that he's so aggressive. And I love that he made me laugh because he hates everything… and I love how he always tried to get me to try new things like drinking and clubbing. I love how he used to touch me and call me Sweetheart. I—I just." Tears began to swell as I remembered all those things Morty used to do for me. "I—I fucking love him. I love that he makes me cuss more often because he does so much. And I love that he just barged over whenever he wanted and tried to get me to have sex with him. I—I—I-

"Shhh…" Red pressed his forehead to the side of my neck, hissing at me to relax as Green rubbed my tense shoulder.

"Falkner… I know this is hard for you. And I don't want to change your decision. But I think you truly need to look at what will make you happy. Falkner… hey, honey look at me."

I shook, making Mama Bird rise from her spot on the floor. She left her mate's side and came over slowly, leaning up to set her face in my lap. Lego sang softly, pulling on my heart strings as the bird family comforted me. Even Zephyr came over, fluttering up to the couch and looking up at me with a sort of pleading look.

"Falkner… Please know that you're father has passed away. You can't hold onto that… And I know you think you have let it go, but you haven't. Ghost or not he isn't the one living here. He isn't the one handing out badges and taking care of all these beautiful birds. You are. And if you're not happy here… then what's the point?"

Green was perhaps the most logical person I had ever known, and what was even more than that was the fact that he knew exactly how to say it. Unlike Gold who had previously said that I needed to live for myself, Green actually reached out to me with those words. Maybe it was because Green had been there and done that… maybe it was because Green was just one hell of a therapist… I didn't know, but suddenly everything felt completely different, and all those selfish thoughts didn't seem so selfish anymore.

I cried, a sudden sweet relief coming over me as my shoulder throbbed and my head ached. Mama Bird pressed herself tightly against me, her wings engulfing me and Zephyr tightly; her two babies. Lego hopped from Red's shoulder to my lap and curled up against my side. Green leaned over, smiling slightly and hugging me tightly as this sudden revelation radiated through my chest. I felt like I was going to fly, even while these people and pokemon held me down so physically. My heart was in mid-freefall and I knew that this was suddenly a moment in which I could either spread my wings, or hit the ground harder than ever before.

Red snuggled me gently, kissing my cheek and breathing as the warmth of the feathers and our bodies seemed to melt together. Green's Pidgeot stood in front of his master, maybe worried that it was going to intrude on our moment.

"You were my easiest patient Falkner." Green said teasingly. "I hope you make the right decision now…"

I nodded to him, tears still streaming down my bleed stained cheeks as I vowed to talk to Morty at the next meeting—which was in just a few days because they would be revealing who lost their gym. My heart thumped nervously at the thought. That would be one hell of a day… and maybe all the glitters wouldn't be gold… but it was suddenly all I ever wanted none the less. I muffled a thank you into Green's shoulder.

Would I make the right decision? Everything everyone had ever told me suddenly felt very right, and even Lance's words made sense in my head. i You're heart will work this out/i. Well had it? I breathed the first easy breath I had since Christmas Eve a couple weeks ago, and even while something—a very particular ghost- loitered in the corner of the room where I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there, I felt like I could make this right.

I lifted my eyes and stared into the blank space in the corner of the room, meeting my father's invisible eyes and mouthing the words I had wanted to tell him from the start.

iI'm sorry…/i

iBut I love Morty…/i


	51. Chapter 51

~Jasmine~

iYou're just like your mother… no… even better… Jasmine you might be my daughter. I wouldn't be surprised. You're mother was such a whore there is no saying who your real father is./i

Those words had cut me like a knife last night, as Chuck had raped me for the twelfth time, more violently than ever before, and that wasn't even the worst part; the worst part was that he had been sober.

And so I went out in the early morning darkness, catching the nearest boat to Cianwood across the bay, where I would sport my revenge like I had been planning for so long now. Steelix lay in the palm of my hand, a tiny ball in relation to the monstrosity that I had been loathing for the last few weeks. I had turned my beloved pokemon into a killer for this very task. I introduced him to a world of hate, one with chains and whips and blood—so much blood that I was sure he saw the red like I did.

We'd killed a pokemon in battle the other day. A large poliwrath because it reminded me of my "uncles", and its trainer had been in hysterics. It was at that moment then that I realized we were ready for anything and a big brute like Chuck was so far down on our list it was almost pathetic.

I wanted revenge as I held the killer in my hand and a knife in my back pocket. Today was the day all ended with Chuck. Today was the day I got my revenge on not just me but all the women in the world that had been violated by repulsive …/i

My boat dropped me off on the small docks of Cianwood, and in the dark navy blue that reminded of Falkner's hair, I trucked forward, tucking my pokemon into my belt and adjusting my red dress straps. It was a dark ruby color, with wine lacing and black accents. A silver chain lay daintily upon my collar bone, and a pair of six inch whore-heels strapped to my feet.

After all… my mother was a whore and I was just like my mother…

I approached the Cianwood gym carefully, sinking into the sand all the way up to the porch and then pulling out a tiny key from where I had stuffed it into my bra. Chuck had given it to me a long while ago, saying that if I ever needed anything to come right over, and I couldn't be more pleased with his lack of intelligence. I felt the lock click under my flawless nails, and watched as the lighthouse in the distance flicker as I turned, taking a deep breath before heading into the gym where the sound of rushing water was evident.

The lighthouse pokemon was a lost cause now. I had once cared about its well being and the ships that it guided to shore, but upon the last weeks of trauma I had given up, thinking to myself at night that maybe it was best if it did die. This was also about the time that I started torturing my Magnemite, often trapping them with large clamps and hooking them up to a generator which shocked them at immense voltage. They were electric type pokemon, so they handled it well at first, until I started hooking them up and lighting flames beneath them as well. Fire had a much harsher affect on the weak Magnemite, and I appreciated ever squeal and plea as it reminded me of myself under Chuck.

Also, the other day I had found a wounded hoothoot up the shore, hobbling along with one wing down and crying for its mother in the early evening. For a moment I had felt sorry for it, bending to its level and reaching out to stroke its delicate feathers as Chuck often stroked my hair. It was a mere baby pokemon, and I thought maybe if I brought it to Falkner he would be able to save its life and train it… except thinking about that boy had twisted my heart and I ended up annihilating the bird with my bare hands. I had choked it to death, watching it writhe and beg beneath me until it lay limp and lifeless in the sand for predictors to make an easy meal of.

I was becoming a monster.

I knew that… but I allowed myself to believe it was for this reason and this reason only.

I wanted to kill Chuck.

Very badly…

As I adjusted myself into the gym filled with roaring waterfalls I pulled a flashlight from the strap it attached to around my thigh. My heels clacked on the wet stone floor as I flipped the switch and got my bearings. I wore a pair of elbow length black gloves, and left no fingerprints on the rocks and railings that followed my light to the top where an electrical box and controls were waiting to be turned off. I climbed steadily, eyes flickering and heart thudding quietly in my chest as the memories of rape came back.

I hit the lights swiftly, downing levers and pulling things until all that remained was a lulling drip that slowed every other drop as water flitted from the cracks in the rock. I knew the silence was enough to wake someone, and so I made my way to the top where I knew Chuck would emerge from, disoriented because not even four hours ago his fat dick had impaled me, and he was now trying to sleep off the guilt—if he even had any.

I waited, for a long time, listening and peering through the dark room and anticipating any sudden noise. I slipped the knife from the pocket on my backside, flipped it open and let it flash in the darkness. Chuck was sounding from above then, boots or heavy feet on the floor above me, heading to the staircase that was at the top of his most prized training area. There was the waterfall here, which was what I intended on using to my advantage.

"Come on you bastard." I huffed under my breath, flickering the knife in the dark as the large oaf grew closer and closer to the floor I was on. I ducked lower into the shadows waiting; blood pumping like it was boiling beneath my skin. This may have been the way my Magnemite felt when I lit a flame beneath them.

The steps grew closer, thicker and echoing as Chuck trampled down the steps, grumbling to himself and letting out a giant yawn while I crouched, gripping the handle of my knife so tightly it began to hurt in my palm.

"Who's there!?" Chuck bellowed, not shamefully and unafraid as he ambled off of the highest staircase and came forward, clapping one set of knuckles to the palm of his other hand threateningly.

I sprung then, lithe like a pokemon with nimble limbs, lashing out with the knife to the back of that man's heavily rolled neck. I was greeted with a horrible gasp and retort as the mountain of a man turned, arms raised to grab his attacker—who was much too fast for him. I whirled, dress flowing out behind me like some exotic dancer's would in a shimmering of crimson. The color of Chuck's blood as it fell. I stabbed him again, this time just below his beer belly, and I twisted as I pulled it out, suddenly screaming like a mad woman.

I shanked him over and over again; shallow horrible wounds making him drop to his knees in shock as I bent and shoved the knife into a space above his hip where I knew the bone of the pelvis would meet the muscle and fat. I stabbed him there, all the way to the bone and twisted hard while fighting off his huge hands, which I also slashed at between sinking closer to Chuck's dick.

He snorted like a wild pokemon when he had sex, and he snorted like a wild pokemon when he was being stabbed to death, blood spattering and leaving me a mess of everything. He howled and screamed and found himself unable to breathe at the slash I bestowed to his throat.

I heard nothing as I slaughtered the man that had slaughtered me, weaving too fast out of his grip as he tried to grab me, and then found that he could only stumble back. I punched him, silence on my taught lips as the blunt handle of the knife left a welt above his eyes. That was for calling my mother a whore. I stabbed him between the ribs; that was for taking advantage of me. I slashed at his eyes: that was for running my father out of Johto.

"JA—JASMINE!" the man had screamed so loud it broke through my hate for a moment, and I actually almost felt sorry for him as he was on his knees, wide eyed and shaking horrible. I grit my teeth, eyes narrowing at the blood that had spattered me in the face, and bent to stab the heavy calf muscle on the back of his leg, so that he could not run no matter how much he wanted to.

"I hate you…" I whispered before kicking him with the hard heel of my shoe and making his nose and mouth bleed. Chuck was no fighter, no matter how much he came off as one. The fat old man was hardly capable of harm.

"Ja—Jaz…"

"You deserve this." I planted my foot on his thick side and shoved, harshly to the edge of the rocks where the waterfall flowed over into the gym stadium below.

"Jasmine I—I love you."

"You're a sick pervert." I recoiled, with one hard shove that proved too much against his weight. He rolled limply off the edge of the waterfall and went splattering down, leaving a trail of blood on the wet rocks as he did so. I did not flinch as he landed, gasping and pleasing and fucking icrying/i. His legs looked mangled from below as I stared down at him, my heart racing.

"Ja—Jasmine…" the faintest whimper reached me from above, proving him still alive. This angered me, and with little hesitation I turned, strutted over to the control boxes and flipped the switch again, leaving a bloody gloved handprint on the handles. I waited, leaning into the box as the waterfalls started up again and Chuck's wails became nothing but a raging gurgling mess.

Chuck died under my own hands. Drowned in his own pool of water and blood… and yet I still felt this hate inside of me. This desire to ikill/i. I blinked, expecting this to go away after some time… I had gotten my prize… Chuck was gone… so why did I feel haunted?

I bathed in Chuck's household that night, leaving residue of his blood here and there, burning the dress I wore and the high heels in his fireplace before taking one of his far too big shirts and throwing it over me so that it hung like a dress. I washed my hair of the blood, cleaned my ace, and stared at myself in the mirror for a long time, watching as the sun began to break of the horizon in the mirrors reflection.

What was I? A monster? A killer?

No… of course I wasn't… I smiled sweetly at myself.

.

I was just an innocent young girl.

….

~Falkner~

"Hey Silver." I managed a smile as the redhead approached me the day before the league meeting that would reveal who lost their gym, and potentially ruin my life. Despite how terrified I was about this meeting I couldn't help but feel excited. Not because of losing my gym, but because I would be able to apologize to Morty and beg him to take me back. I knew he would…

I lay sprawled in a hammock out in my back yard under the trees on the far end of the pond where I didn't often go do to the narrow mossy ledges leading to it. On this fine January morning the clouds had left sunshine lay upon my face ever so slightly. There was no warmth to the light, but I appreciated it none the less. It was as if my revelation had parted the clouds, and now showed signs of getting better.

"Is this your bird?" Silver asked, holding a very delicate Chatot on the side of his hand. She sang to him lovingly, gently taking pieces of luxurious long foxy red hair and pulling softly as if she wanted it for nesting material. She stopped after a moment and pressed her soft little head to his chin, nuzzling him because she was the kind of bird that loved everything and everyone. Silver held back a muffled laugh, pulling her away from his face because he was ticklish—but would never admit it.

"Lego, what are you doing?" I held my hand up in a gesture for her to fly over, and she did so carefully, landing precisely and chirping.

"You look good Falkner." Silver commented, putting his hands on the hammock I lay in, perhaps wondering if it was stable enough to hold two people. I shifted over and gestured for him to climb in.

"Wait until tomorrow." I sighed. "I'll be a mess."

"League meeting?"

"Yeah."

Silver settled himself beside me, his long hair splayed out and falling in waves. Lego hopped from my arm and settled herself above Silver's head, nuzzling his hair.

"How are you doing about Morty? Are you over it?" Silver murmured. He had called me earlier asking if he could stop by because Gold had apparently ditched him for the second time in the last week, and he was getting worried. Not horribly worried, just a little unsure because he didn't want to get too far off track from his lover. I knew my appearance and mental state was much stronger since the last time he saw me. It must look as if I had gotten over Morty… but that wasn't the case. I had actually gotten over my father—sort of. I still felt as though I was going to break down occasionally, when my senses kicked up and I could suddenly tell that my father was watching me. That was often the reason I wound up outside with the birds more than often and found myself in the hammock this morning.

"I actually… had an eye-opener the other day… Green, you know the gym leader retiring in Kanto?"

Silver nodded.

"Apparently he's a therapist and Lance called him to come help me out… even though all he really did was tell me to get over it…"

"Over Morty?" Silver closed his pretty metallic eyes and tilted his head back to soak up any little bit of warmth he could. I noticed now that he had the faintest freckles dancing across his nose and cheeks.

"No… over my father." I told him. "I'm going to talk to Morty after the meeting tomorrow and… hopefully he will take me back."

Silver approved with a slight nod. "What if Morty is boning Gold?"

"What?!"

The redhead turned to face me, setting a hand on my hip and sighing. I also noticed that he had a lack of color on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. "Well maybe it's not Morty… Gold found me the other day and told me all about this fantastic handjob Morty gave him."

All the peace in my heart seemed to crumble into undying jealousy, and I had never felt jealous before—it was a cruel emotion that only lead to disaster. Silver looked completely used to the emotion though, as it swelled in his mercury eyes. I tried to shake the feeling. Of course Morty would have found someone to fondle with sexually, he's much to frustrated to go on without a fuck buddy without us being together… I grimaced at the thought, but in all honesty I felt more sorry for Silver.

"Why would he just tell you that?" I asked. "Arceus I'm sorry Silv…"

The redhead's brow furrowed. "I think… I think he feels like we aren't really a couple… I think Gold honestly thinks it's OK to just cheat on me. Well, not that it's ok, but I don't think he feels like he's actually cheating."

"Maybe because of that night at the club? We all kind of… mixed with one another, maybe Gold thinks that how it still is?"

"That's not love that's lust." Silver snorted softly.

"You want Gold to love you?" I assumed with a sigh, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my cell phone.

"I know Gold loves me, I just don't think he realizes that I ONLY want him, I don't want any side dishes…"

"Make him jealous then too." I clicked about my phone, getting to the camera and holding it as far away from us as we can, looking down.

"How?"

"Kiss me." I suggested, brushing my fingertips under his cheekbone and knotting my fingers through his hair softly. "I'll send him the picture."

Silver laughed shakily. "He's either going to jizz in his pants or shit bricks."

"Worth a shot?"

Silver rolled his head and leaned over, planting his soft, thin lips on my slightly rounder and more plump ones. I kissed him back ever so softly, hitting the button and hoping my hand was still as it took. It was only a brief peck we shared together, but it sent butterfree through my stomach and up to my ribcage. Had Silver been an aggressive son of a bitch with fancy tongue tricks I would have been tempted to fall in love with him as well as Morty. Only like this I felt more mischievous, like I was the dominant one, which was a bad combination for me.

Silver laughed as I shower him the picture on the small screen of my phone. It wasn't the best picture, and Silver's hair took up a lot of the view, but you could clearly see that our lips were pushed together and that I was—unbelievably—smiling at the camera through my eyelids. You could also see a small portion of Lego's face as she looked down at us in awe. Her confusion was amusing. I actually hoped this picture wouldn't leak anywhere other than to Gold's phone because it was so identifiable.

"Send it to him." Silver shifted to be lying on his back again.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked.

"Something to get him all wired up."

I snickered, clicking buttons here and there until the message was sent.

iTo Gold

From Falkner: You're missing out Gold. Better hurry up and rescue Silver before I steal him away./i

I sent it and Silver and I laughed, lying limply in the hammock with our eyes closed and Lego sang above us, chirping and tweeting while a little ways off I could hear the angry sounds of Zephyr fighting with a Weedle because he wanted honey out of the tree. One of these day an angry Beedrill would come along and teach him a lesson, but surely not soon enough.

"What if Gold is with Morty right now?" Silver murmured. "Then Morty will see that picture and be jealous too…"

My stomach sank. THAT was probably the worst thing that could happen to me at the moment. Morty was under the impression that I didn't want him because I didn't want to be gay and disobey my father, if he found out that I had kissed Silver without knowing the real reason he would rampage.

"Shit." I huffed. "I hope not…"

Morty would rape my ass if he found out… but even more so than that I wanted to start over fresh with him (minus our side dishes; Gold and Silver). I knew that this meeting tomorrow would be vital, and if things went out of wack now there was no hope for us getting back together.

Suddenly Gold's text came barging back to us, and Silver jumped as the vibrations startled us.

i To Falkner

From Gold: WTF?!/i

Silver and I shook with laughter.

"He's going to be so pissed off."

"Oh come on now Silver, look at that text. He's already pissed off!"

Another message came through suddenly.

iTo Falkner

From Gold: Tell Silver I'm going to fuck him senseless tonight. He's going to die./i

I rather let Silver read the text himself, instead of trying to choke out those words. It amused me greatly how Gold was mad at SILVER and not me. Was it because Gold had no problem with me being part of his relationship as well? And just not Silver's? Either way it was hilarious and Silver turned bright red, telling me to text him back.

i To Gold

From Falkner: Too late Gold, I already did.

To Falkner

From Gold: If you're serious Falkner… im going to kick your birdy buns.

To Gold

From Falkner: Maybe you shouldn't be cheating on Silver? :P

To Falkner

From Gold: Silver's cheating on me!

To Gold

From Falkner: Mmmn~ Oh—Oh Silver baby~ OH!

To Falkner

From Gold: Seriously… Fuck you Falkner. WTF!i/

We stopped texting after that point, unable to stop laughing as Gold harassed us with talk of rape and dominance and shoving things up our arses because he didn't know if we were serious or not.

"I—I don't think Gold's going to cheat on you anymore, not after you tell him that you did this to make him jealous." I chuckled.

The redhead was grinning now, his face lit up in a way I hadn't seen before. "I didn't know you had it in you, Falkner."

"What?"

"You're devious."

"Oh… Well I guess Morty rubbed off on me…"

Silver sighed in content. "I'm glad things are going to go back to normal."

I smiled, looking up at the sky and thinking that for the first time in a very long time I actually felt like I was flying. "Yeah…" I agreed softly.

"Me too."


	52. Chapter 52

~Morty~

This was it… the meeting that would change everything. A few days of inspections had gone by since the last time Falkner and I saw each other, and I couldn't help but think how horrible this would be when he walked through those doors and joined us. No one spoke a word to me as I sat at the furthest chair from the group of gym leaders, head down while they stared at me with their narrowed eyes. This was just like how it was before Falkner came; they treated me like I was something different. Like I wasn't worth it…

Clair sat on Lance's lap, trying to strangle him into telling her the results before everyone else knew, only it looked more like rape because her boobs were squashing his neck and her hands were ripping at his awkward maroon hair. I snorted softly, wondering if Lance secretly liked the abuse his cousin bestowed on him. At any other time it would have been gratifying.

But not now… not while I was so worried about who would be losing their gym…

If it was me I knew I would get over it, and despite the fact that I knew it wasn't going to be me because I had such a shit load of money flying out of my ass, I was still worried. Is Jasmine lost her gym all hell would break loose, and her jittery fingers on the table would turn to fists and she would probably pull out a gun and shoot up this whole meeting room—she looked that psycho. If it was Bugsy… I could care less, the twerp was always annoying. If it was Pryce we would all feel guilty. If it was Whitney she would cry and probably pick up a job in the city or at the battle frontier which wasn't far from her. Clair wouldn't lose her gym because Lance would be castrated is she did. Chuck might… but Chuck was nowhere to be seen as of right now so he wouldn't even know once the results were revealed. He being an older gym leader probably had plenty of money to survive, so I can't imagine it would be a horrible loss for him.

And of course there's Falkner… who would be devastated and most likely suicidal if they took his gym away from him. All his time and effort and blood sweat and tears, his fucking _legacy_ was in that gym, and if they took that from him… I didn't know what I would do. He had no business with me anymore but I knew I would stand up or him… I knew I would cut Lance's throat before they took Falkner's home, his love from him. Falkner NEEDED that gym, it was the only life he knew. As much as I hated to admit it, his father's ghost was there and that was something that could not be replaced elsewhere.

I could hardly believe I had been angry enough to take that away from him myself…

After the incident with the sage at the train tracks, and Shauntal's mother fleeing from me in thought that I was going to dispose of her, I realized that it was the equivalent of murder. Taking a ghosts body was one thing, that was death for the first time, but taking a ghosts's spirit, its being away from them… that was like taking Falkner's gym from him.

A horrible sinking feeling grew in the pit of my stomach as I sat alone, fiddling with the ends of my burned scarf and waiting for the grunting noises to stop. Clair was making such a racket, howling and hooting and pretending to ride Lance like a ponyta when he stopped fighting with her and held his face in shame. Had this been at a more appropriate time I would have thank Clair for humiliating Mr. Kiss my ass/suck my dick. There weren't very many things in life I loved more than seeing his ego being ground to shit.

My eyes were up as cautious as everything fell into place, and little by little the silence started on. Lance had won the battle with Clair after threatening to tell Pryce when he showed up—which he did only moments later—which sounded like a childish threat to me. Bugsy had sat next to Whitney and squeezed her hand softly as she tried to choke out how bad her inspection had gone. Apparently one of the inspectors had slipped because she had just finished waxing the floors. I was secretly hoping that this was a deciding factor, because if it came down to Whitney and Falkner, surely the harmful floors in her gym were more dangerous than Falkner's high beams.

Jasmine had gotten up twice, claiming to be going to the bathroom and then coming back a moment later and focusing on her breathing. There was something seriously wrong with the girl, even more so than her anorexic appearance and faded chestnut hair. She looked like she was terribly sick, the way she sweated slightly in the warm room and swallowed often, looking like she might puke all over the place if someone said the wrong thing. I glared at her, hoping that if anyone it was her who lost her gym. She had done nothing but caused friction between the gym leaders since Falkner came and joined us.

Speaking of Falkner… he entered the room slowly, eyes searching nervously, his hair sleek and neat and to my surprise a lovely little Chatot sitting on his shoulder. My Christmas gift to him sand softly, rubbing her head against the left side of his neck while the fat butter ball Zephyr stabbed at the side of his head angrily. My heart caught in my throat as he turned his eyes up, finding mine and looking into me so sharply that I thought I was dreaming.

Where was the blubbering mess from last meeting? Where was the frail, chained bird with tears in his heart and wings? He strode over to me, a nervous and twisted smile on his face. I blinked in astonishment, wondering if he was going to try and return my gift. Why else would he approach me?

However he didn't, he just pulled the chair out from next to me and filled the seat next to Clair, who was blowing air on Zephyr to make him chirp angrily. The bird whirled, jumping to her shoulder and poking her in the cheek.

"Morty…" Falkner whispered to me, pulling out two pokeballs and returning the birds swiftly.

"Fa—Falkner…"

"Where is CHUCK?" Lance slammed his hand down on the table, making us all jump because it was suddenly silent without the Chatot to sing.

Jasmine wiped her eyes then. "Who cares Lance? Let's get this over with!"

"Yeah. Let's go. Chop chop." Clair clapped her hands impatiently. "We all want to know who gets to die."

Falkner stiffened from next to me, leaning back and folding his arms across his stomach, trying to hold himself together because Clair had spoken the words so ruthlessly. It wasn't as if she feared for losing her gym, so she had no shame in saying that someone would "die". That's certainly how it felt…

Lance took a deep breath. "We should all be here together for this…"

"Yeah, we can't go on without Chuck…" Bugsy stood up for his drinking partner. "He deserves to be here too."

"What if he's not coming?" Jasmine suggested with hate in her dull, lifeless eyes.

"He wouldn't miss this" Bugsy grumbled. "He's probably just a little late."

"We'll wait just a few minutes…" Lance said. "If he doesn't show then I'll go on… So—How is everyone?"

"Fuck you Lance, no one wants to talk to you." Clair snorted, turning to Falkner and whispering in his ear. I saw his aqua eyes flicker at me, and his cheeks turn slightly pink as if she had whispered some terribly dirty secret. He blinked, pushing her away softly and said a curt "no."

Such beautiful eyes… my heart broke as he looked over at me, pulling his chair in closer to the table and maybe even a little closer in my direction. Had he gotten over me? Was that the root of his confidence?

"Morty—I want to talk to you." Falkner whispered. "I—I—

"I can't take waiting Lance!" Whitney cut him off from across the table. "If he shows up we can tell him… but please…"

Lance huffed. "Alright, who wants to proceed?"

Clair jutted her hand up in the air as if the sick and twisted fate of one of the other gym leaders amused her greatly. Bugsy groaned as Jasmine murmured an agreement, saying to proceed. Pryce even nodded, and Falkner only sighed softly and looked away. He did not look like he wanted to get this over with; he rather looked like he never wanted to know. I could see it in his shiny, flickering eyes that he was terrified. He thought it was going to be him…

The odds were not working with Bugsy and Chuck as everyone else wanted to go on. Lance stood then, pushing his chair out and heading to a large drawer behind him. He grabbed an envelope of statistics from it and came forward, holding it against his chest.

"I just want to say that this was the hardest decision the Elite four and I had to make… and… if there was anything we could do to change it we would have. But, things happen and the point in life is to move on and overcome tragedies, so… I hope you push hard. No hard feelings…"

Arceus this was so fucking dreading. I was holding my breath as Falkner trembled beside me, his eyes growing wet just from anticipation. Jasmine held her head between her hands, as if she was covering her ears and unable to bear the thought of hearing the truth. Bugsy stiffened, looking away from Clair's piercing glare as she seemed to want him to lose his spot most. Pryce was solemn, proud if his slippery gym and knowing that somehow it wouldn't get taken off the list, even though it should have been him from the beginning. His forty year run proved time for him to retire anyways.

"Spit it out." Clair demanded of Lance as he stalled, still holding the large envelope to his chest, face down and eyes pained.

Jasmine began to cry, biting her nails.

Falkner grit his teeth together, shaking so harshly that I actually felt a tremor go through me. He was so nervous… and why wouldn't he be? Even my heart was in a knot at the thought of losing the gym I called home for the last three years.

"Alright… I'm so sorry…" Lance ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Falkner..."

The bird trainer froze in his seat, his mouth dropping open in shock as if he had just been stabbed in the back. He gaped, shaking his head, willing Lance to say otherwise.

"No…" Falkner huffed, breathless as if someone had just punched him in the gut.

"I'm sorry." Lance coved his face, unable to make eye contact with the leader's life he just ruined. My eyes reverted around the faces of relief, especially from Bugsy and Whitney. Jasmine still cried silently, though her eyes reflected hurt—no agony. Pryce was staring, emotionless because this was something he surely saw time and time again in his old age.

"What?" I asked suddenly, my heart hammering in my chest with anger. Didn't they know how much that gym meant to Falkner? Didn't then fucking know!?

"I—I need a moment." Falkner was so thunderstruck, so pained that he couldn't even cry. His face reflected an open agony without tears and while his hands still shook he pushed himself out of the chair and half ran out of the meeting room, my arm extended towards him in a silent plea.

"Falkner…" Clair murmured, being serious for once.

"No." I shook my head. "No! You can't do this to him!"

"I—It's wasn't my choice. I voted against kicking Falkner out…" Lance hung his head as I got up out of the chair and slammed it into the table.

"No Lance. Dammit… You—I—I— I forfeit my gym!"

The room turned to me in shock; all showing a surprised face except Pryce as usual.

"You can't take that away from him." I insisted, brushing past Lance and heading for the door. "Take my gym if you have to." I shot over my shoulder before leaving.

Falkner was a few feet away from the meeting room door in the hallway, his head between his knees as if he was too dizzy to move or even look up. He folded his arms across his face as I approached him.

"Falkner… Sweetheart… Come here." I got to my knees at his side, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I—I'm such a failure." He whimpered. "I—I tried so hard…"

"No. Sweetheart you're not losing your gym. Ok?" My hands flitted against his shoulders, forgetting all the things we had been through and brining him in closer to me. I pressed his face to my shoulder, rubbing his back. "I—I forfeit my gym for you…"

He melted into me, gripping my shoulders much tighter than he had in a very long time. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my neck as I hugged him, shifting him forward so that he was in my lap. Ever so softly I kissed the top of his head, breathing in his familiar and luscious scent.

"Wh—what?" He shook his head. "N—No Morty…You can't…"

"Too late, I already did… Falkner I don't need my gym… I need you. Dammit. I love you…"

"Ta—take me back." The bird trainer murmured into my jacket, his eyes teary and wide as he looked up at me. "I—I was going to ask you to take me back… I—I'm so sorry about all this."

Sweet…. Succulent… relief…

I had wanted to hear those words for the last two weeks, I thought I had imagined it enough times to know exactly how it would feel.

But this was much more powerful. So powerful that I couldn't even make out a coherent sentence. I just tipped his chin back and kissed him the most tender, never-going-to-leave-you-again kiss we had ever endured. And it had been so long too… since the last time I felt his perfect little plump lips on mine. Hot and feverish and wet because he didn't swallow his saliva fast enough. I gripped the back of his hair, pulling him so close to me and never letting him go. Our tongues danced, teeth clacking together here and there since we just couldn't get close enough. I pushed his back up against the wall and held him tightly while we sat on the ground, the wine carpeting plushy and hard at the same time. The kiss lasted at least a minute, which didn't seem like a lot but when you can't breathe because your lips are so tightly bound against someone else's…

Falkner jerked away, gasping; now realizing that he had been yanking on my hair so tightly my face was twisted into an awkward smile of pain.

"You're taking me back." I breathed as he released me.

Falkner slumped against my chest. "If you'll have me…"

"I'll always have you… But… I'm moving in with you."

Falkner shook his head. "You can't forfeit y—your gym for me."

"Let me live with you as repayment." I nuzzled his jaw. "Just let me love you."

"I—I—Ok."

"I fucking love you."

"I—Love you t—too…" Falkner was in hysterics then, letting out all the pent up emotions in his being because… for once it just felt right. I held his body close to me, feeling his frantic heartbeat in the silent hallway until the sound of the door creaking open came, and Lance stepped out looking for us.  
"Morty! FAlkn—

He stared down at the twisted limbs together as he held onto each other, me rubbing Falkner's back gently and glaring up at him, daring him to speak of how surprised he was to see us back together.

" I—I'll…leave…" Lance shook his head and went back into the meeting room.

I kissed Falkner on the head. "Let's get out of here."

"Bu—But the meeting…"

I rolled my eyes. So what? A meeting was a meeting… they had these meetings all the time and all that ever came out of them was trauma. With a fluid movement I stood, bent, and then hoisted Falkner up into my arms, holding him as if he was a small child while he clung to me in surprise.

"Who cares about the meeting?" I pecked him on the lips, heading for the lobby to the Indigo Plateau and watching his head from hitting the top as I carried him out the doors.

Falkner wrapped his arms around my neck, laying his head on my shoulder for a second before sighing. "You can let me walk…"

"Don't think so."

"Morty…"

"Do you love me?"

"I—I never stopped…"

"And you always will?"

He nodded, fidgeting in my arms as I paused and let him fall to the ground. We took hands in the late January snow and walked.

"You're getting raped." I told him.

He sighed again, making me grin wickedly. It was the first smile I had put on in a very long time. This was the improvement I had been waiting for. This was the reason I was alive. I winked lovingly—lustily at Falkner.

"Just like it used to be."


	53. Chapter 53

~Morty~

"Mmmn… ahh…ah!"

"OH yes, baby part those pretty lips."

Saliva hung from our swollen, plump lips as I dipped in a again, pinning Falkner to the wall and grinding down on the clothes surfaces of his pelvis, his thighs, his stomach, ruffling the sensitive areas as he were a bird and could flutter his feathers. I gnawed on his neck, teeth grazing hot purple marks into his pale skin as he panted to the beat of our frantic hearts. I had wanted this for months now. Long harsh months in which my groin had strained for such activity, begging for release this powerful it actually begun to hurt. Especially in the last few weeks without Falkner. It had been the equivalent of starving, if not worse. My tongue squelched against his, making horribly dirty noises as my hand palmed the obvious buldge in Falkner's crotch.

"Oh I fucking love you." I hoisted his legs up around me so that he no longer touched the ground and could wrap his arms around my neck. Our pants burned together, my twice as large erection yearning for attention under all that material. My body stroked lovingly and violently against him as I gripped his hips and pulled him down hard on me, pressuring the desire into the shape of his jeans, between his buttcheeks as if it was powerful enough to rip through our clothes and connect us instantly. I rode him dry and hard for a long moment, grunting and sucking below his earlobe as he gasped, nervous laughter flitting through the waves of sizzling excitement. I swore I was seeing red, the kind of red that reflected lust and passion and so much heat. Falkner made my blood boil, literally steaming beneath my skin until I noticed my skin looked nearly transparent above a layer of alizarin crimson.

"Kiss me." Falkner pulled my head back, jerking forward and pressing his lips to mine again, his mouth gaping and wet and sexy enough to make me want to lose my mind.

"Fuck." I cursed between us, nipping at his lip. "You fucking sex kitten. I'll fuck you till you're inside out."

He kissed me harder as I shoved my arms up under his shirt and twisted my thumbs into his nipples. There were warm under my touch, which I didn't preference over the needy little hard nubs I had seen before. I ripped his shirt off in one fluid movement, letting the air tease his chest until he hardened; tight stomach muscles bunching and coiling with the movement of my jerks.

"G-get these clothes off." Falkner gasped, trying to reach down and slip his hand into his pants. "I—I'm going to lose it."

"Don't you dare." I wrapped my arms around his back, moving swiftly from the wall and kicking my shoes off at the door in the same movement. I pulled Falkner along, feeling him naturally humping against my lower stomach, because it was impossible not to move at such a time. There was a small spot of wetness upon the tented tip of his jeans.

"Did you cum?" I demanded, kicking my bedroom door shut behind me and tossing him onto the black silk sheets in the room of candles. Now free handed I pulled my shirt off and adjusted my scarf.

"Nu—nuhh." Falkner rubbed himself between the legs as he lay in my bed.

"Stop it."

"I—I can't." He kneaded harder with a small moan.

"Don't touch yourself dammit." I clamored on him, gripping his naughty hands and pulling them above his head. His aqua eyes lolled as I slipped my scarf off, pushing my knee between his legs and shoving him up to the headboard. He gasped as I knotted his wrists together and then to the decorative center of the dark cherry wood headboard.

"Ahh… Ah! Morty." His eyes pleaded as I licked all the way down from his wrists to the hairless planes of his armpit, over and down and up again until he bunched with strain, nipples taut and me nibbling on them with a wet mouth.

"Sh—shit." Falkner grunted, smashing his thighs together in attempts to fill the need between his legs. I noted this and moved down, planting kissed from between his pectoral muscles, down the center of his abs, to his belly button—which I so rudely raped with my tongue—and then past the soft pubes below. I pulled his thighs apart and burrowed into his crotch, spitting between the cracks in the zipper and nuzzling where I knew his balls would lie.

"Mm-!" Falkner jolted as I made a gaping yawning motion at his crotch, tongue lapping at the already wet material until it reeked of the musky scent of precum.

"St—Stop teasing me!" He gasped as I gripped his belt buckle between my teeth and shook hard like a growlithe would a chew toy.

"I'll tease you all I want." I growled, fumbling with the clasps and popping the hard leather out until I could slip the belt from his waist. I tossed it to the floor and where it clattered mercifully, slimy with my spittle. My coordinated tongue plucked the button away from his crotch and yanked the zipper down, revealing the black elastic band of such neat boxers. "I'll ravish you. I'll make you scream." I pulled his jeans down to reveal a corded tube laying beneath the thin black material, twitching in its own puddle.

"What a waste of natural lube." I pushed his thighs up and let my lips graze the soft underside, kissing down to his ass and pinching the material between my teeth, pulling away as he heaved. A layer of sweat had formed across his chilly body, and the look on his face when we made eye contact made my heart radiate. The boxers were gone in a fluid moment, leaving his stark naked and stunning before me, his erection shifting from where it was trapped before, to lay proudly against his stomach, the underside showing itself to me as careful little veins pumping blood lined it.

I had seen Falkner's hard plenty of times before, and I had watched him as an orgasm rocked his world, but what I never noticed was how blatantly adorable his face was when twisted with lust. His pale tongue slightly upon his bruised bottom lip and his short neat teeth hiding beneath the skin of his upper. His tilted his chin back, straining against the scarf that bound him helpless before me.

"You're stunning." I whispered, leaning forward to kiss him on those pretty lips.

His heart thudded against mine as our chests pressed together, nipples rolling between the heat as I smothered him, my hands moving to take off my own belt in the same movement.

"U—Untie me." He gasped as I pulled away to slip my jeans and boxers off, tossing my socks away as well and then biting Falkner's off because I had forgotten about them.

"Why?" I asked, my eyes narrowing deviously. "So you can jack off yourself and ruin my fun?"

His cheeks flushed. "I—it hurts."

"It's full." I murmured, smiling and leaning back onto my knees below him. "Look you're already going to explode… You didn't release any tension over the last two weeks did you?"

"N—No." He admitted, shivering as my fingertips traced the shape of his balls, the skin pulling down from the weight and connecting to the underside of his dick. A muffled groan slipped from his throat. "Staahhppp…"

"I'll kiss it better." I leaned down, working up the saliva in my mouth and taking one plump testicle between my lips, sucking softly before giving the other one the same attention. There was a succulent ipop/i as I pulled away from and moved to kiss up the sensitive shaft, nibbling on the skin and urging the violent shudders to subside as I calmly lapped at the tip, enjoying the shark tangy taste of pre-cum as it drizzled out.

"Ahh… there we go." I gathered the clear drops onto my fingertips and brought it down, trailing a line of slick from his tip to his asshole where I planted my fingers carefully. "More baby." I flicked my tongue against the fleshy, swollen cock. "You need more than that… this is your first time." As I spoke I poked my finger into the tiny pink hole surrounded by muscle between his legs.

The reaction was instant as I prodded him, testing the waters. He jolted, shocked by just how—was that pleasure on his face?—strange a sensation it was. I personally had never felt anything up my ass, but the way he reacted made it attractive enough to almost want to feel it. He turned even more cherry red, and moaned as more slick drooled past his head.

"You're reaction is perfect." This time I slurped up the precum greedily and sloshed it around in my teeth before adjusting, pulling myself to my knees before him and hiking his underside up onto my laps. I spread his thighs and pulled at his lovely hole.

"Mo—Morty what are you-!"

Falkner let out a muffled cry as I pressed my lips to him and pushed the precum as deep as I could, using my tongue and fingers to stretch and it pulsed uncomfortable.

"Ah—ahh!"

"Relax…" I looked up at him from between his legs, violet eyes half lidded as he bit his lower lip.

"U—Untie me!"

"No way." I dug my tongue in, ignoring his cries of pleasure and fright as he yanked against my scarf. There was a faint ripping noise, and I pulled back, dropping him and glaring.

"You rip my scarf ill rip you a new one." I promised easily, reaching forward to tighten the knots.

"Please…" He begged, eyes tearing up. "My dick is on fire."

I kissed his forehead, the corner of his mouth, his nipple once and then up to his mouth again. "Maybe if you beg a little more."

"Please!"

I licked a tear from the corner of his eye, pushing my nose into his hair and inhaling deeply. "Arcues I love you."

"The—then untie me!"

My hips ground into his as I kissed him, cocks rolling together under my weight as precum began to fall. I had to stop myself and sick the head of my own to his asshole while I drooled.

"This will be inside you Sweetheart." I kissed his throat, feeling a wave of goosebumps rise. "Do you want it now or later?"

"W—what?"

"I want you to suck it…" I whispered. "I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

He shivered again.

"All the way down your throat…" I kissed the between his collar bones, shifting and turning myself in the bed of black sheets until I was facing towards his feet. I slipped a leg over his chest and spread myself until there was no denying the placement of my pulsing, purple erection. Falkner's more slender one sat before me, rippling as did his pelvis before I lay my chest to it.

"Take it Sweetheart." I shot over my shoulder before gripping the base of his hard cock and engulfing it. Falkner hissed shakily, his backside rising to the occasion as he himself tried to fuck my mouth. I took it deep, all the way to my throat without gagging, unlike the hesitant trainer who just barely managed to lick the bulbous end of my erection. I pushed down further until he didn't have a choice but to accept that this was happening with or without his hands.

Our mouths were completely different while pleasuring each other. Mine long and luxurious strokes, lapping my tongue up and down his shaft while he pumped with quick, jerky movements to match my quick stroking.

"Mnn…" I moaned against him, pulling back for a second. "Good boy… Ahh! Careful of your teeth!"

"S—sorry." He hissed with my dick between his lips. Here was a sort of peacefulness on his face as he sucked me lovingly, obviously happy that I was giving him attention as well. I paused, spreading my hips and watching from under my torso as he took in the full length for a split second before recoiling with a cough as precum drizzled straight into his throat without having touching his tongue.

I leaned forward flicking my tongue along the sides of his shaft while reaching my hand forward to play with the sensitive hole below his balls.

"You're not relaxing…" I whispered, spitting saliva and letting it drip down between his buttcheeks.

Falkner merely grunted in response, too happy with the molten heat he put on my cock with his tongue. I hadn't experience a blowjob quite like this one, since it was his first time and he was actually quite good at it. I felt the tightening sensation in my balls as he treated me so kindly while I played with his neat little tunnel that would inhabit my train.

We needed this so bad it actually hurt. Not physically like our yearning erections, but emotionally because this was where Christmas Eve should have gone a few weeks ago. Falkner's gift to me had been delayed and even though I had corrupted myself with Gold's dick at once point, I still felt as though I had been completely alone. Besides I never got off on Gold anyways… Falkner was my one and only. He HAD to be the one to make me cum. Up until I met him of course, that had been different, and I was able to blow a load with just my hand alone; but not now. Now it took a special kind of feeling to make me orgasm.

And he was so brave, letting me spoil his body with hickeys and love bits along his hips and thighs as he sucked my massive cock with his mouth along. He took being tied surprisingly well despite him being a bird at spirit and wanting to always fly away. I knew the only real reason for this was because despite a little discomfort he truly wanted this. Far more than he wanted to impress or obey his dead father.

I thought about losing my gym briefly, and what I would do even though Falkner would have no choice but to let me live with him—ghost or not I refused to be anywhere else. I thought about how he his father would react to this kind of intimacy I had with his son, and how Falkner would react knowing that his father would be there iwatching/i. Things certainly would be hard for a while, but I knew with a little practice I could learn to ignore the dead bird trainer and move on. My lips turned up into a smile around Falkner's hard, and he noticed, plucking his face away from mine and falling back with a huff.

"W—what?" He asked me. "A—am I doing i—it wrong?"

I shifted then, my heart thudding with as much love as it was lust, and turned completely to be facing him again. Our erections snaked together as I lay my hot, muscles body on his lanky toned one.

"You're perfect." I leaned into another heated, passionate kiss, feeling the warm sultry air around us as the candles wafted smells of winter warmth. He kissed back easily, so happily as I reached above to let him fly free, unknotting his hands.

A small, breathless chuckle escaped my lips. "If you touch yourself I'll tie you up again…"

Falkner rolled his aqua eyes, knowing my threat was empty because the way his slender hands felt in my hair was too rewarding. He tugged softly, humming in the back of his throat while my eyelashes brushed across his cheek.

"I love you." I he whispered, wrapping his arms around my neck and pushing his face into my shoulder. "Let's do it…"

"You're ready?" I grinned, perching my hips above his.

"Fuck me." Falkner managed. "Fuck me like you've always wanted…"

"You're going to lose your mind." I told him gripping his back and lifting upwards. I spread my knees and turned, falling on my back and pulling his chest to mine so that he was on top. I shifted at an angle, spreading my hips so that my cock stood alone before him kneeling over me, slipping through the plump cheeks of his arse to the small of his back. He leaned over me, surprised with my choice of position, and knotted his fingers in my hair again, looking into my eyes so deep that I was sure he saw something even I couldn't.

I forced two fingers into him and watched as his pretty face twisted into pleasured pain.

"It's going to be a long haul baby." I whispered, pulling out and gripping my cock, placing the tip to his entrance.


	54. Chapter 54

~Falkner~

There was something about sex for the first time that was more gratifying than any other intimate activity. It was the heat, the passion, the lust, and the overall pleasure that was granted to me as Morty mutilated my backside.

Every ram, every thrust, every wet kiss that sent shivers up my spine I felt him deep inside of me. Not just emotionally either, I could feel his throbbing, pulsing, arrogant monster ripping apart my inner walls in search of that tender spot so far up in me that I thought he was going to pull out my insides before reaching it. I could feel every hot part of him, and so much pain it was dizzying as his balls made a sharp slap on my everything he came up. Occasionally he would stop to, teasing me but plunging in deep, not moving but simply ifeeling/i as my walls contracted around him and he held it together yet again. I could have sworn he was going to cum at least three time, and somehow managed to stop it in its tracks, rewind and start wailing on me again as if the urge never happened.

Me on the other hand, was screaming in misery because Morty made sure my hands stayed about my waist at all times, and wouldn't even give me the satisfaction of touching my dick for me. He was a cruel bastard in that sense, and I got the feeling it was his personal goal to get me cumming without touching me at all. That or he was trying to build it up so much it would make monsoon season look meager in comparison.

"Ahh! Ahhh! AH!" I grunted every time he pulled my hips down and thrust that cock up my ass even harder. Where this undying energy came from was beyond me, since I was the one about to crash and burn, and Morty—who was doing all the work—seemed to have just a thick layer of sweat coating him.

"Don't hate me." Morty hissed, pulling out swiftly and suddenly, leaving me feeling raw and empty. I gasped, thinking that he was going to cum now, but finding the walls whirling and my hair flopping over in my face as he shoved me—quite harshly—down on the bed and yanked my legs up, hasty and unforgiving as he leaned over me and yanked a familiar, warm material over my mouth. He knotted his scarf and twisted it, creating a leash of some sort and then parting my legs.

My chest lay flat on the bed of sweat and silk as Morty pummeled into me again, adjusting me with his kinky sex material until my head was thrown back and I was screeching through the material. He hammered me into the bed, each thrust hardening and pounding and making me throb. Everything was so iFULL/i.

"MMMMM!" I squealed around the gag, eyes lolling and tearing because it felt like I was going to be pulled inside out. He was surely up to my stomach by now.

"Oh-Oh fuck." Morty pounded, lifting one thigh at a time to reach different pressure points inside of me. He was an expert at this no doubt, despite me being his first real gay sex. He'd only experience with female holes before this, and I couldn't say that helped much.

"Beg for me…" Morty snarled, leaning over and biting the back of my neck as if he were some exotic cat. I felt his cock slip out.

"N—no!" I whined at the emptiness.

"Beg dammit!" Morty reached down and around me to grab my needy erection, which was an instantaneous reminder about how much I needed to get off. The fluids were angry in me, bubbling like a hot thermometer and about to reach the top and break through. I could feel it rising, tightening around his strong hand, and yet he held so tight I knew I wouldn't physically be able to cum.

"MORTY!" I screamed through his scarf, shaking it away and twisting as an orgasm reached its destination but did not overflow. Morty gripped it tighter, cutting off circulation as my hips went limp and I scrambled onto my side. Morty ripped one leg up and dove back in, until it was so painful all I could do was scream silently because no voice would come from my throat. Morty snorted and let his weight fall beside me on the bed as this new position had us on our sides facing each other.

"Beg." Morty's knuckles must have turned white around the grip he had on me.

"P—PLEASE! LE—LET ME CUM!" I jerked forward as a bead of liquid sat on the tip of my dick. It would only prove to be the first of many.

Morty gave me one more harsh pump before releasing me, and letting the orgasm render me senseless, picking me up and throwing me around and coinciding with the orchestra of groans and whimpers and most of all, releasing a river of off white slime.

"AH!" I through my head back, thrashing about as it just kept coming, leaving a severe puddle between us. Morty had destroyed the possible distance I had with shooting, but in return had piled it up so much that I just didn't even understand how it was possible. How could so much hot, thick, white stuff come out of two tiny holes so fast?

"Mo—Morty! MORTY!" I held on tight to him, considering the possibilities that there could be something seriously wrong with me. I shuddered and twitched and was about to break off into hysterics when finally it stopped, and I was able to open my eyes and see that Morty had purposefully put himself in the line of fire, and his hair was matted with silky strands of my own fluids. It dripped between his eyes as he looked up at me, deep violet pools of lust, dilated with so much pure ecstasy. He licked his lips as he looking at his face, turning slowly this time so that my limp body was turned upright. He planted two kisses on me; one on my forehead and one to the tip of my throbbing, slowly descending dick.

"You're face…" He took a second to wipe the cum off of HIS face. "Is adorable… I—I'm never forgetting the way you look right now."

I managed a shaky laugh as his hips started to roll once again, softly this time, tenderly as he was only seconds from his high as well. He laid atop of me, shaking slightly as his cock coiled and jerked inside of me. His strong arms making a hold so loving I knew I could never break away, physically and emotionally.

He shuddered, coiled against me once, and then filled my entire being with hot fervent cum before collapsing, suddenly out of breath as if NOW he was working his body.

I breathed, wrapping my dank arms around his neck and pulling myself tighter into his shape. I sighed as he pulled out, releasing the liquid from inside me. I wasn't sure whether to be repulsed or enthralled about the whole thing, but I settled on not caring because in the morning I would be repulsed anyway, seeing as though Morty's black silky sheets would hide nothing.

Morty and I said nothing for a moment, just breathing and listening to our heart beats slow back to a normal pace while he stroked my hair. It was silent, sustained, fucking romantic even—in the most sick and twisted and iwet/i way possible. All I could think about was how much I loved him and never wanted to leave him and how I could have possible felt any different in the last two weeks. Morty was my heart, my fever… the other half of my soul that didn't belong to birds—maybe even more than half of it now.

"How do you feel?" Morty whispered, seconds before I was sure to fall asleep or cry of happiness.

"Mmmn~ So good." I murmured, turning my face up to press my lips to his. There was no real effort to the kiss, since my strength was sapped by our activities.

Morty chuckled softly in my ear. "Ready to go again?"

I grunted at him, but couldn't help but smile. "Shuddap Morty."

"I wasn't joking…"

"You made me cum so much I'll never cum again…" I sighed, nuzzling his chest. "Goodnight…"

He echoed my sigh.

"Goodnight Sweetheart."


	55. Chapter 55

~Morty~

"Mmmmmmnnnn…." Falkner moaned as I tried to move him the next morning.

"I'm sorry…" I sat beside him in bed, examining his limp and bruised penis, though trying to hold back a laugh because really… the poor thing looked more like a piece of raw meat than an actual dick.

"Stop laughing!" Falkner covered his face. "It hurts…"

"No shit." I rolled my eyes. "It looks like you put it through a cheese grater."

"You did that to me!" He through his hands over his face, teary eyed. "I have to pee… I'm scared to even try. My ass hurts…"

As much as I hated seeing Falkner in pain I couldn't help by find this highly amusing. "I don't even know if you will be able to stand." I commented.

"You're not helping…"

"Alright… alright." I sighed, sliding myself out of the black silken bed that was splattered with areas of crusty white unpleasantness. I stood, stretched luxuriously and turned to Falkner, running a hand through my tangled hair as he glared up at me.

"Morty, I have to go home and feed the birds…" He pushed his face into the pillow, showing that he truly didn't want to leave.

"You're not going to be able to walk." I told him.

"I don't have a choice…"

"Sure you do." I snapped my fingers. "Gengar!"

Falkner groaned slightly, moaning at the pain in his dick. It was quite sad actually. I had squeezed him so hard I couldn't help but think he was right—maybe he wouldn't ever cum again. Shaking the thought away in replacement for a ghost pokemon I ordered it to go get an icepack from the kitchen. Gengar saluted me and flitted off, disappearing beneath the walls as I dug through my bath closet for a towel. There was no denying that I had to take a shower, and Falkner too if he was up for it.

"So Falky baby." I called quietly from across the room. "Once I move in with you we can do this all the time right?"

"I never want to have sex again…" He groaned, holding a pillow over his face.

"Don't tell me that." I laughed. "I'll dump your ass."

Gengar appeared a moment later, struggling to hold an icepack in his ghostly little hands. I took it swiftly, wrapping a rag I dug out of the closet around it and walking over to Falkner.

"One time—a long time ago—Clair kicked me so hard in the balls I had to ice them." I held the pack out to Falkner. "And I discovered that if you don't put something over the pack it will stick to your skin like a cold spoon does your lips… I ripped ball skin off that day."

Falkner shook his head, throwing the pillow away from his face and taking the thing gently from me. He hesitated, twisting his face up into pain as he gently let the thing sit in his crotch. I noticed suddenly—though I wasn't sure how I hadn't noticed before—Falkner has a line of black stitches running up the side of his shoulder. My eyes narrowed.

"What did you do?" gently my finger's touched below the marks on his shoulder.

"Tried to break Renegade again." He hissed, feeling the cold of the icepack sinking into him. I had to admit that face was quite beautiful, and even mildly seductive. I pictured the way he looked last night as I ravished his body, leaving dozens of dark bruises and hickeys across his torso, every few inches started at his throat to his pelvis, and then down past his dick to the undersides of his thighs.

"I'm going to take a shower…" I brushed his hair back from his face, noticing that his head was abnormally hot. "Then you can tell me exactly what to do… I'll go feed your birds. Do you have a fever?"

He took a deep breath at my cool fingers on his cheek. "You don't have to do that… I should feed them."

"I'd rather you not go walking home bowlegged and dick shredded." I teased, standing up. "I'm getting you Tylenol."

He sighed heavily, shivering as the cold set into him from the icepack. "Hey Morty, you didn't use a condom last night did you?"

I snorted a laugh. "No, what are you afraid of getting pregnant?"

"More like you're whore diseases."

I snickered, digging through the bathroom medicine cabinet and passing—ironically—a box of unopened condoms. I uncapped the Tylenol and took out two tablets carefully, dropping one in the process only to have Gengar snatch it up and run with it before I could pick it up. "I'm clean Falkner." I muttered, searching for the ghost who liked meds far more than he should.

"Are you?" He asked as I came back to him. "What if I'm sick because you gave me AIDS or something?"

"You have no faith in me." I shook my head, putting the two tablets in his hand. "Just because I didn't use a condom with you doesn't mean I've never used one before."

He sniffed, not even attempting to sit up and swallow the pills.

"You know what I think." I leant down and pressed a cool kiss to his warm forehead. "I think I just fucked you senseless and your body has no clue how to react…"

He didn't disagree nor agree with that statement as I moved away from him again, murmuring that he should take those pills and feel better soon, and heading to get into the shower.

"My house keys are in my jeans… that are somewhere." Falkner called to me. "Are you sure you want to go to my house alone?"

"I'll be fine. How much do you want me to feed the birds?"

He sighed. "There is a crate in the yard with a lock on it. The birdseed is in there and the feeders are up in the trees. Just fill them—there are four—and make sure you lock the crate again afterwards."

"Sounds easy enough." I said as I started the shower from the open bathroom. I glanced at him in the mirror, seeing that he had shifted up to swallow the pills after all, but fell back with a grunt afterwards.

"I'm going to fall back to sleep." He told me.

"Go ahead… But you might want to—

"Eeew..."

I snickered. "Avoid the left side of the bed."

….

Falkner's house was lonely and cold looking without the birds flying around and him there to do tedious chores. It actually made me quite sad to see that the birds didn't even emerge yet and it was noon already.

"Hey birds!" I called in the most friendly voice I could, which surprised Gengar who had loyally strutted along at my side in a balloon fashion the whole way here. I held two of Falkner's pokeballs in my hand; Lego (the Christmas gift I had given him) and Pride who I had been very tempted to fly all the way back—but decided it wasn't worth the broken limbs if I fell off. Falkner always kept Zephyr with him do to the separation anxiety that bird had if it was away from humans, so I hadn't taken him.

"Here birdy birdy birdy~" I murmured quietly, wondering why the hell I was calling them as if they were fish pokemon. I scowled, not knowing how to approach birds in the slightest. It's a shame they weren't ghosts—id be an expert, I thought boringly as I reached out to unlock the gate around the back of Falkner's sanctuary. It was easier to go through this way than through his house.

iYou're a fool Morty Matsuba/i, a sudden, familiar and gravelly voice called to me. I flinched, unlocking the gate and ignoring the previous gym leader as his ghosts followed me across the property.

iDo you honestly think you are going down the right path? Someone as spiritual as you should know better than to defy our higher power./i

"Birds!" I called, ignoring the man as he clonked by with his boots on the high fence before me. He stood, physically looking down at me because that's the kind of man he was. If he wasn't looking down on you naturally he would find a way to do it unnaturally. Even if that meant degrading the living like me by something as simple as a height difference.

iYou can't ignore me forever./i, he sneered, saying the words I once said to his son. i Falkner will come to his senses and get over you Morty/i.

I walked into the sanctuary swiftly, my feet sloshing in the half melted snow because the last few days of January were started to warm up inland for Johto. Ecruteak had suffered very heavy snowfall at the beginning of the year, but now, nearly to February, it was starting to subside into a more gentle slushy rain.

A sudden, loud shriek above my head called, and before I had time to look up I was blown back by the force of piercing wind, whipping my scarf up into my face and taking the breath out of me as a spirit—of what I didn't know—passed straight through my body. My strength teetered as a cry from above sounded, and as I looked my stomach flipped upside down to see Walter Hayato looking down on me again, only this time it was me on the floor and him standing. Falkner's pokeballs rolled from my palm and clattered on the patio as another blast of energy left me breathless on the cold patio. I wasn't sure how I had even ended up on the ground so quickly.

iThere's a price to pay believing in ghosts Morty./i Walter chuckled darkly, nudging me without actually touching me, with the steel toe of his boots. His energy passed through me, but it was enough to trigger a pain in my side as if he had kicked me. I grunted, gritting my teeth and snarling up at the man as a second spirit—the one to knock me over—flew from beyond him at lightning speed, faint feathers flying everywhere in an unclear precision. I gasped as it swooped above me head and screeched.

The ghost of Walter Hayato's beloved Nocktowl—I actually remembered the day it died because we had been at a league meeting and Walter had left early to participate in vigil. It was one hell of a bird, with horrible large talons and sharp, dark brown feathers and a beak that was hooked and could break apart even the hardest of things. I wondered why I had never seen this apparition here before, but was struck in the side by another blast of energy before I could figure it out.

I coughed, breathless and throbbing on the inside. "Ge—Gengar!"

My pokemon leapt into action then, launching itself off the ground and at the Noctowl as it tried to swoop in again. Normally this pokemon would be unfazed by Gengar's attacks, but being that it too was a ghost now, this fight was suddenly all the more fair.

"Shadow ball!" I commanded, trying to haul myself up off the ground. There was a pressure that kept me planted however, and my chest felt like it was being crushed as Gengar mercifully fought with the ghost bird.

Walter Hayato bore his eyes down on me, mouth moving ever so slightly. iYou're quite the trainer as always…/iHe complimented with a hiss. iBut did you forget that I was a master?/i

"Was." I choked as the invisible force pinned me harder. "You're not anymore… you're dead."

Noctowl's and Gengar's piercing wails cut through to my ears like knives, however soft and faint like whispers to those unable to hear ghosts. My eardrum pounded, throbbing and squealing at how loud it was to my ghost-sensitive ears.

iYou leave my son alone/i. Still, Walter Hayato was louder.

"Never!" I spat, watching the flocks of Pidgeotto look down at me from the treetops. Most pokemon were sensitive to ghosts, which is why ninety percent of them could battle ghost pokemon, but the problem here was that none of these normal type birds could see the battle raging before them. All they saw was a stranger writhing in pain and talking to himself on their patio.

iYou're no good for him!/i Another hard, throbbing ball of ghost energy planted into my side making me gape in pain.

"I—I forfeit my gym for him!" I declared.

iYou're making a fool of his honor!/i

Gengar screamed bloody murder from somewhere beside me as the bird attacked with far more skill and force. I actually had to thank my lucky stars that Gengar was a ghost pokemon and couldn't physically die, because if he could Noctowl would have done that already. It was just too powerful and blinded by its master's rage.

"I—I LOVE HIM!" I snarled, tears of pain swelling in my eyes as Walter channeled his energy into my heart, glaring down at me until the sensitive organ felt like it was going to explode in my chest. "I—I lo—

A horrible, real life scream came then, the sound of a magnificent bird still living with blood pumping through its veins and power in its muscles as it landed behind me, its sharp, familiar yellow eyes clouded with grief. My head lolled as the pressure on my chest vanished, sending a wave of blood back to my brain too quickly. I flipped to my side, cold on the wet patio stone and looking up at the creature that so bravely stood up to a ghost.

It was that Pidgeot… the same one that found me at the beach party so long ago, and comforted me because she somehow knew just how I was feeling. Only her docile disposition from then was completely gone now, and her wings flapped madly, the graying feathers fluffed up and ruffled with anger as she bared her parted beak in a hell of a scream that sent all the other younger birds away.

iPidgeot…/i Walter Hayato took a step back in disbelief.

I pushed up to my feet slowly, arms shaking and body achy from the energy the ghosts had stolen and replaced with their death. I felt like I might collapse again, or pass out, but was too amazed to miss out on this scene.

Pidgeot—I remembered now that Falkner called her Mama Bird—stood before her dead trainer—a living breathing pokemon—and looked him in the eyes as if he were truly there. I'd never known a normal type pokemon to be so sensitive to ghosts, let alone human ghosts.

Silence rang out in the sanctuary as Mama Bird quieted, crooning at her master and saying things that I couldn't understand. Walter however, seemed to speak bird quite fluently, and opened his mouth to argue, but was silenced by the Pidgeot's chirp. Was she…standing up for me? The trainer and pokemon squared off, Gengar broke away from Noctowl and lay in a puddle of fog on the ground, making soft slurping noises in pain.

iHe's my son, not yours…./i, Walter Hayato told his beloved living partner.

Mama Bird disagreed instantly; shaking her head and leaning back to stand at my side. She was up to my shoulder despite her delicate bones and petite features, and looked me in the eyes so sweetly it actually stung in my chest. She chirped back at Walter, though her eyes stayed focused on mine. A long silence echoed through the sanctuary…

This isn't over…/i, Walter finally spoke, dumbfounded by his bird's talent in seeing ghosts, and whirled into the wind. I watched as his shape vanished beyond the patio and into the trees surrounding the small pond.

I let out a breath I had been holding, pulling my hand up gently and setting it on the Pidgeot's head. "Thank you…" I sighed, not sure how but knowing if it wasn't for this bird Walter would have bound and gagged me with his ghostly pressure.

Mama Bird pecked me softly on the cheek, her eyes reflection love and appreciation I had never seen before. I smiled, surprised by such intelligence and loving actions. I knew she had already accepted me into to being part of Falkner's life, and she even looked happy for her adopted son. I trembled softly, brushing the birds soft feathers back as she turned and moved to fly away, off the calm the remaining birds and a very frantic swellow from the nesting box, or "treehouse", as Falkner called it.

I forced myself to take a deeper breath, mentally thinking that this was for Falkner and I could deal with it if it meant being with him… except Walter's word's rang in my ears as I searched the yard for the crate of birdseed, nauseous with the energy inside of me. Mama Bird accepted me, but that was only half of the battle.

Walter Hayato could chase me out of here if he really wanted to.

…

"Si—Silver I—I can't even walk!" Falkner's pained voice came instantly as I opened my front door having walked all the way back home to Ecruteak with heavy, invisible bruises on my sides. I could see that Falkner was lying on my leather couch, curled up in a damn ball of skin and wearing my sweats and a tshirt that looked a little too big. It was a cute sight, if it wasn't for the fact that he was on the phone with that brilliant foxy redhead whose perfect features I envied. There was a faint squawk in reply to Falkner.

"Two days?" my beloved bird trainer gasped. "I can't go two days without walking!"

Silver replied swiftly this time, making Falkner flinch.

"No… Morty was at least two inches thick…"

"Erhem." I snorted, shutting my front door and grumbling so he could hear me across the room. I saw his navy mop flip up to look at me, and then a picture of shock on his face.

"I—I have to go Silv. Call you later."

"What are you a chick?" I commented, walking over to him and bending to give him a kiss. "And whatever Silver says about Gold's cock isn't true. He does steroids."

"Gold does not to steroids." Falkner rolled his pretty aqua eyes.

"I'm twice that little shits size. It's insulting to compare us together."

Falkner sighed, though humor laced his expression. "We weren't comparing… much…"

I grunted, changing the subject. "You're birds are fine. Fed and healthy. That Pidgeot even came up to me." In my opinion there wasn't much point in talking about what happened with his father and the ghost noctowl. I knew it would only upset Falkner, which wasn't in my plans for tonight, or any other night following.

"Mama Bird." Falkner grinned peacefully. "I'm glad she likes you."

I slipped beside him on the couch, nodding in agreement while brushing his hair back.

"I tried to do laundry by the way…" He mumbled, shifting to be leaning into me. "But it… really does hurt… I can't bend over to put the stuff in the dyer…"

"It's ok." I sighed. "We can destroy the guest room tonight instead…"

"Uhh… no."

"Oh come on. I'll bet you are still loose from last night."

"You're crazy if you think I'll do that again."

"Never? Was it that horrible?"

He blushed slightly.

"I knew it."

"What?"

I kissed him gently. "You loved it."

He bit his lip sheepishly. "Ok yeah… I did."


	56. Chapter 56

~Jasmine~

Olivine in early February; a month when the tides come in high and block the rocky path to the lighthouse, creating a small island set apart from the mainland and completely abandoned, despite the ever so slight flickering coming from the sickly Ampharos at the top. It had been on and off for a month, never seizing to get well and never fully submitting to death like it should have by now. I took comfort in knowing that such a pokemon had the strength to go on, and yet at the same time there was nothing I wanted more than to watch its last breath before its pale, yellow mouth. The pokemon had large welts along its legs now, from nights I had spent by its side watching tiny bug pokemon try and eat away at its flesh because it truly smelt of death. There was little life left for the creature, and I seemed to be counting the days, staring at myself in the mirror and wondering when it all would end…

How ignorant was I to believe that I could have died as quietly as the pokemon that died before me? After all, at one point I had done everything in my power to save the creature of its misery. I had even resorted to exotic medication and herbs from across the bay, only to find that nothing worked. At last I had given up—the same time when my "Uncle" violated me, and about the same time I realized that Falkner had turned away and was never coming back.

In the last month or so I had resorted to self injury, experienced rape, harmed my own partners, murdered innocent pokemon, and now people as well. I had taken the life of none other than Chuck, in high hopes that it would get rid of this dark shadow that sat upon my slender shoulders that lately looked sickly skinny. It had been far too long of me wondering if I would ever heal, though—a week after I murdered Chuck—and I still felt no self improvement, I abandoned all aspects of my life.

My house was in turmoil, the city was hiding in fear because apparently the long lost Team Rocket had been loitering around, making attempts to cross the bay and head for Olivine—I hoped they wouldn't just in case their target was the gym leader, since who no one knew was dead yet. But that was beside the point. Team Rocket was hanging around and this town's gym leader had abandoned them. The Jasmine they once knew was no longer around, but rather replaced with a frightening young girl, ruthless in battle, yet stained and pitiful in person. No one dared question why I had not taken action against the band of rouges—or maybe not rouges anymore—and I quite liked it that way.

There was one thing however, that I could not put past me, as it was far more than just a beachside city of folk I didn't know personally; it was my father. My beloved father who had given me everything up until the moment my mother left him and I alone, so she wouldn't have to deal with her problems. My father had retreated to solitary weakness, business at its best, and though he still loved me very much I knew things would never be the same. Even he was stabbed emotionally by the pain of me, not because it was my fault, but because I was a constant reminder of the cheating wife he had before she ran away.

I often wondered if my father, the great safari warden Boaba, knew just who my mother had been cheating on him with. Surely my father was a man of great dignity, but could he really have sat there quietly knowing that his best friend was fucking his wife? And for how many years had this fuck fest gone on? Had my father known that there was a possibility that even I wasn't his daughter by blood? I could very easily be Chuck's blood… a spawn of his filth—the same filth that had been plunged down my throat time and time again.

I had stabbed Chuck numerous times, his throat cut, his legs stabbed so he was immobile, and then thrown over the training waterfall in his gym where he landed in the water below, soiling it with blood and left to rot; all because I wanted revenge on what that man did to me and my father. I wanted to watch his face as I rose from the ashes and took his life from him so quickly—so brutally. I had wanted to see the regret in his eyes. I had wanted him to ifeel/i all that he had done wrong to me and his best friend. I just wanted him to lose a fight that he had won so long ago…

Only once did I go back to Cianwood to check up on the white, puffy body of Chuck, in all his wrinkled glory, under a constant waterfall while the smell of his carcass flitted about the inside of his house. Bug pokemon had also gathered there, eating his flesh and spawning because truly there was no better place for such disgusting creatures to live.

Speaking of bugs; Bugsy had called me countless times asking if I knew where the fighting Gym leader was and why he wouldn't answer his calls, and each time I was forced to bite my tongue and play stupid because as soon as someone got worried enough and opened those gym doors, they would find that Chuck's demise was far worse than they could have ever imagined. I knew that once that day came I would have no choice but to put my acting skills to test, and seem so blatantly innocent that no one would expect it to have been me to murder him. This only had to play off for so long though, until I could pin it on Team Rocket and make the Gym leaders think that there was no one to blame but a group of rouges in shitty costumes. Lance would buy it in a second, though Clair would shoot it down with something erratic and stupid like saying the fat lard had killed himself for being too fat and too lardy.

It would blow over, funerals would be arranged, I would cry, everyone would cry, and then life would go on… Falkner would still have Morty, I would still be alone, and not even he satisfaction of that despicable ghost trainer losing his gym would give me pleasure. This was the only thing that backfired about this plan of mine; Morty wouldn't be losing his gym, and the only shallow happiness I had gotten in the last month would be ruined. I wanted Morty to lose everything. I wanted him to crash and burn because since he came along and stole Falkner away from me that was all my life had been; crashing and burning.

I stationed myself at the lighthouse on this fine February evening, letting the warm sea air waft through my messy braid and lap at the sides of an old rowboat I hadn't traveled in for years. The reason I had taken it in the first place was so that no one would be suspicious of me swimming out to the lighthouse, even though that was what I intended to do on the way back.

The basement was large and chilly, decorated with a many lanterns I had accumulated here over the last few days. There wasn't much light, but it was enough to understand the shapes and dusty surfaces of what lie around me. I could quite easily see the chains that dangled from cranks above me, and the heavy iron balls that had been left from a cannon many, many years ago. I considered them carefully, wondering if it was a wise way to go along with my plan. There was plenty of gun powder—though I wasn't sure how dry it was because of the uncountable leaks of ocean water coming through. In the end I decided that it was pointless and simply rolled them over to my pokemon, who lay coiled up in a heap of steel boulders, taking up most of the space in this basemen.

"Snack time." I whispered to the pokemon in a melodic voice, watching its hasty red-orange eyes flash back and forth before snapping forward and snatching the heavy thing up into his jaws. He crunched on it hard, enjoying the metallic coating and grumbling pleasantly.

I had already killed one of my magnemite with torture, and the other had evolved into a Magneton after enough voltage had come from its shock "therapy" as I had been calling it. One morning I had decided to minus the flames on one of my pokemon, and just turn the generators up to full blast. I had caused a small blackout in the north side of the city, and my Magnamite had evolved by force because of it. The other one I had been torturing with fire and lighters and eventually me unscrewing the bolt coming out of its round body. I had taken this weaker pokemon and stuck a fire cracker in the hole from the screw, letting it explode and dent the metal body from the inside out until Magnamite was nothing but a shell of lifelessness. I fed the metal scraps to Steelix after that, which had sparked a craving in him, initially turned him onto trying to chew on the metal walls in my own gym, which was how he ended up here in this basement. I couldn't have such an angry, powerful pokemon trying to literally eat me out of house and home.

"You're a good boy Steelix." I murmured across the room, my eyes darting to the thick chains that lay about, each one with a thicker band than my wrist, connecting into the other links that made it an impossible weight. I had just barely managed to coax Steelix into the path of said chains before turning to a switch crank that hadn't been worked in years. With my new Mangeton as the battery source though, the thing lit up and suddenly Steelix had found himself trapped, helpless without arms and flailing about, tail knocking around things because he was already so untrustworthy of everyone beside myself.

Steelix had no reason to trust me anymore though, and I made that quite evident as I glared back at the pokemon. "You're a good boy." I repeated to my partner, my best friend, the one pokemon that had always been there for me no matter what. Steelix had once had a heart of gold, enjoying simply things like getting a bath with Whitney's help, or digging in the open fields far outside of Olivine where no one could feel the tremors.

"I'm sorry…" I told the beast as he rumbled pleadingly to me, begging for an answer to my cruelty. "That's the problem Steelix… you're a male… and even male pokemon can't be trusted."

I turned away then, ignoring his screeching back at me as he didn't understand what I was going to do next. And to tell the truth, I didn't even know what I was going to do next; all I knew was that I had unblocked an escape route to get myself out of this old lighthouse before anyone could figure out what went wrong. I also mentally prepared myself for the questions I would be asked about my Steelix gone missing—which I would respond with a simply "he got sick and died, so I shipped him away to have his body donated for pure metal material."

I didn't know why I wanted to kill my pokemon so bad… I just knew that I wanted to…

Grunting to myself I turned to a huge barrel of lighter fluid, which I had brought on my own despite its immense weight and mass. This was a key part of my plan on this fine February night.

"Steelix… my good boy." I cracked the lid on the foul smelling fluid and gagged softly. "You want a bath?"

There was a grumble of scorn from the mighty metal beast as I reached around the barrel and grabbed a large pump water gun—yes a watergun—and dipped the end of it into the liquid. Such a childish toy, and yet so utterly perfect for my plan. I pulled the pump back, sucking the maximum of a half gallon into the long slender blue tube and turning.

Steelix was fairly smart for a pokemon for his size and brute strength, so I wasn't surprised when he began to panic, understanding that it was his turn to go. One Magnemite had already passed, the Magneton shared the same fate as him, and even that pesky little sick thing at the top of the lighthouse would crash and burn like my life had lately.

I stood beside the chained, rumbling pokemon as he actually shook with fear—pure fear because he knew his termination now as it stared him in the face.

"Good boy." I whispered, reaching out to stroke the brow of his huge solid head for one last time. "Such a good boy…."

The filmy layer of skin around his huge eyeball flickered over smoothly, hiding his raging emotions from me as I backed away with silent footsteps, holding the water pump full of lighter fluid gracefully.

"Good boy…"

I began to spray the innocent pokemon.


	57. Chapter 57

~Silver~

I could hardly contain myself anymore.

This utterly dire, intoxicating and so beautiful feeling inside my chest… I just couldn't handle it. Call me a hopeless romantic I didn't care, call me a freak, so what? Call me gay, faggot, homo, whatever word you wanted to use, I simply basked in the glory of it all, knowing that this was by far the happiest I had ever been in my solemn young life. Years of abuse had not broken me, but made me stronger in a sense, and whilst I had escaped at only eleven and gotten to Johto, life had never been exactly easy. I suffered my fair share and a lifetime more of hate and anger and nights upon nights of tears, wondering who I was and why this happened to me. I lied, I stole, I cheated, I did pretty much everything but sell myself for sex to get my way around the last seven years. In fact the only reason I hadn't sold myself for sex was because my virginity was the one thing I thought I could save for someone who actually meant something to me. I knew now that all that had happened for a reason because Gold was meant to be that person.

Ever since the first time I ran into him in a tiny town called Cherrygrove, after stealing one of his professors pokemon and trying to make my getaway. At the time I had been so scared of the world though—becoming a trainer actually frightened me—that I ended up confiding in Gold, telling him all my secrets and begging him not to tell on me. We spent the night together as acquaintances in Cherrygrove that late August night, under a canopy of trees watching the stars and ever since I saw his golden eyes blaze that night I knew that he was special. Of course he still hated me and what I did at the time… so it wasn't comfortable. He left me early that morning, heading for Violet City to challenge his first gym, and I had willingly followed him, though staying far enough away so that it wasn't obvious. I felt as though I would get too close and he would see me bone and all would be lost. He would hate me; especially since the new eighteen year old stud was so obviously hormonal and attracting of women—not me.

After endless battles and few nonchalant bets between me and the dark haired boy upon our meetings we began to grow closer, and the tables turned to where I knew that Gold had opened his heart to my explanations of stealing the pokemon from the lab, and my past, and everything down to the split ends of my long red hair. Gold suddenly knew me better than anyone else in the world, and at this point I knew I loved him. We spent an autumn night in Ecruteak, the night after I battled Morty and won, and it was then that Gold truly declaimed himself to me. We kissed, I cried, he wacked off, and ever since it was an endless battle of whose heart was stronger.

Gold may be able to beat me in battle… he may be the only exception to my winning streak, but he most certainly couldn't win against my heart. It had already taken so much damage that him trying to love me harder only filled it to the fullest, and I returned the favor through flushing and gentle touches. What Gold didn't know however, was that he was actually fueling the fire inside of me while I was fueling his, and so our fight was never quite complete or over.

Not even that night at the club, when Gold—despite being the most dedicated and loving person I had ever met—had put himself out there on a limb to help Falkner, and then in a drunken haze had let Morty take advantage of his plump, eager lips and meaty, throbbing cock. How did I know it was throbbing? Because I had been the one to make it that way only minutes before Falkner came over explaining what happened to him and his new boyfriend.

I was a very jealous person, especially when it came to Gold, and so that had been both the worst and the best night of my life. The worst because I had witnessed far more than I ever wished to, and the best because despite it all Gold had taken me to the finest hotel—the indigo Plateau itself—and made love to me afterwards. He was drunk, I was somehow still sober, and we were both infatuated. Even though Gold couldn't remember it all clearly, I could I knew that he had treated me well for my first time. He didn't regret it either, which was good since we had vowed to do it every other night together and be sober until the memories were so far deep into our souls that not even alcohol could take it away.

Eventually my body refused him though, and with blisters in places blisters should never be, we took a break and cuddled every night instead—that was all this last week—until we wound up in this lovely seaside town called Olivine.

"Mmmn…" Gold nosed me softly, lips parted and breath hot in comparison to the February air while the ocean lapped at the shore, having just slowed to reveal a land bridge connecting the flickering lighthouse to the shore.

"I love you Silver baby." Gold—HE was quite the hopeless romantic as well—whispered in my ear, pressing his cheek to mine under the sunset and sighing softly. "I can't believe I doubted this."

I smiled a weak one. Gold had been so hurt and upset the day Falkner and I took a picture together, lip locked under bare oak branches in his backyard sanctuary. It was pretty immature of us… but it had been the best and most strategic thing we could have done to set out lovers straight. Since Gold didn't deny being fondled by Morty, and even more so admitting to LIKING it, I knew that he had to have felt like he was slapped in the face after that lovely little text conversation.

In the end Gold had saved that picture on his phone, saying that as long as this whole thing didn't get any further he didn't mind—mostly because he thought Falkner was the second cutest thing in the world next to me.

The four of us, trainers and gym leaders alike, had a strange relationship that couldn't quite be denied nor accepted. Gold appreciated the horrid, rough, angry fighting between him and Morty, and I wasn't about to say Falkner hadn't been anything but good to me. He was my best friend—under Gold of course who qualified as the other half of my world—and I didn't want to admit to having a meager, tiny fraction of a crush on the navy haired bird trainer.

But maybe it wasn't a crush? Maybe it was just that I enjoyed his logical thinking and his honorable ways. He was just as much a simple loving guy as he was an enigma, so loose and mysterious that he slipped away like the sand did when Gold had reached down to touch it upon getting to this town. I didn't try and think too much about the whole confusing thing we had going on, but rather let it go because really when I was away from Gold—even when I was with Falkner—all I could think about was when I would see him. And when I was with the honey eyed boy all I could think about was how long I would be with him—be it forever and a day, or no longer than a second.

Gold held my hips tightly, caressing me in a gently dip while his hand slowly moved up to knot through the luxurious, thick waves of my hair on the back of my neck. He chuckled ever so softly, happy to have the beach to ourselves at this hour and dip be back so that I could feel him supporting me. That was what Gold wanted most—he wanted to be there for me and love me and take the weight off my shoulders when things got rough. Not that they were rough now… but just because he could take it upon himself to remind me.

He dipped me back so far and kissed me that my waist length hair swept through the sand with a faint iswish/i, making me shiver with anticipation. Gold was a wonderful swimmer, but I on the other hand, was too tangled in my own hair to concentrate on moving my legs, so I hoped that this particular outing wouldn't involve the deeper areas off the chilly shore, otherwise I would be clinging to Gold the whole time I wouldn't be able to allow him the space to thrust like he was so good at.

"Silver…" Gold hummed into my throat, dipping me back to be supporting myself. "I'm marrying you one day. Hope you know that."

I flushed a terrible, wonderful red, my stomach fluttering and twisting and making my heart ache in a good way. I absolutely loved this boy before me, so I nodded in encouragement, knowing that at some point he could say vows to me and make everything even more perfect than he already had.

I wrapped my arms around his back tightly, sighing as the waves rolled up the sand at our bare feet. A small ripple went through him, and I felt the gentle pressure between us grow into a hardy rod between his legs. Beach sex? Yes. Beach sex it would be.

"Arceus I just… mmnff." Gold grunted, reaching down to unzip my jeans with a fluid movement. "I'll suck you off right here, I don't care… its dark, no one will notice."

I bit my lip, pulling my head back as his fingers excited the sensitive organ—which reminded me vaguely of how horribly rough Morty had been to Falkner. I small laugh escaped my lips at the way Falkner, being so uncreative, had described his dick to me yesterday. He said it had been the color of un-ripened plums, and I didn't even know how to put that into my imagination.

"What's so funny?" Gold asked, nuzzling me.

"No—nothing… I was just thinking about what Falkner said earlier."

Gold shot me a jealous glare and leaned in suspiciously to kiss me, thoroughly cancelling this conversation and changing the subject again.

That is, until a sudden change in atmosphere came over us...

Our kiss was abrupt, stopped by a faint smell rolling into shore with the waves, though it plunged down our throats and made my eyes sting. Gold drew back, his honey eyes widened in surprise. It was a common smell, despite the obvious sea breeze that mingled with it, and at first glance I was sure there had to be someone lighting a campfire around here. Gold hummed awkwardly, a throaty moan of disapproval as our eyes searched the horizon and shore.

"What is that?" I scrunched up my face, eyes narrowing uncomfortably as he turned, too confused to be horny anymore.

"A fire… but… that's not wood burning." Gold sniffed into the wind and flinched. "That's a chemical fire… for sure."

The smell grew on us until it was almost too obvious. This was not your usual burnt smell, it was something far more spicy, almost to the point where I could taste it in the back of my throat.

"Shit." Gold cursed, breaking away from me and pointing at a lighthouse just little ways off shore, with a tiny land bridge that was nearly submerged in the waves.

I placed my hand over my mouth in shock as a horrible orange glow flickered off the navy waves, looking like an impenetrable flame as the salt water fueled its passion.

"The lighthouse!" Gold took a step back, stunned but bracing for action.

A tiny explosion went off around the base of the old light house, and a second later the flickering yellow light at the top went out, allowing the smoke to consume it in replace for the fire. I gaped in horror, reaching out to grab Gold by the wrist only to be stopped by him yanking my shoulders around to face him.

"Stay here!" He snarled protectively. "I'm going to check it out."

"No!" I latched onto his chest. "No Gold! What are you suicidal?"

"I'm going to be the new champion one day; this is part of the job!"

"No its not!" I begged. "Stay with me."

"Silver, honey I have to—

"Don't go…"

He shook himself slightly, being far too heroic and shameless about his desire to choose right over wrong than to let this go. I watched as he shed himself of his jacket and through it on the ground, then leaned forward and gripped the sides of my face harshly to plant a rough kiss on my narrow lips.

"I love you." he growled.

"Gold!" I tried to pull him back by his tshirt as he pulled away from me and started running. "Dammit Gold!"

"STAY HERE!" He shot back over his shoulder, sprinting to the land bridge to the burning lighthouse. "I'll come back for you!"

Shocked and awestruck by the powerful teen I dug into my pocket, pulling out the only thing I could think of to do as I ran after Gold, not intending to lose sight of him. Now would have been a really good time to use the Gyrados I caught at the Lake of Rage—if only it was fully trained.

"SILVER STAY AWAY!" Gold snarled as my hair streamed out behind me, my hands fumbling with speed dial.

"I'm not letting you go alone!" I yelled to him, pressing the phone to my ear and listening to it ring.

Dammit Falkner—pick up!

"Go away!" Gold yelled at me, running faster while I felt sluggish in the sand.

"Gold!"

i"Hello?"/i Falkner picked up on the last ring, and I heard him hiss something at Morty.

"Th—The lighthouse!" I gasped, watching and slowing as Gold flew across the land bridge that was soggy and sinking beneath the waves.

"It's on fire!"

…

~Gold~

I was no rooky trainer anymore.

Ah… fuck…

These things should be easy…

So why was my heart racing?

My chest seemed to thud awkwardly as I stomped around a pile of old, crumbling cinderblocks, hot from the smoke coming from the basement, far below in a staircase that was too blocked off to reach. I had tried moving things to reach the stairwell, but upon finding a single, steel boulder in the way—stuck as if it had tried to escape—I couldn't do anything but turn around. There were other more important things to worry about, besides whatever was the cause of such a fire in the basement.

Rasping, heaving up the thousand or so stairs with my arms blackened my soot and my face smeared with blood from where a shard had pierced my palm and I wiped my brow from sweat.

"He—HELLO!" I coughed, howling out to anyone that may be able to hear me. There were no known people living in this lighthouse, but that didn't mean stray pokemon weren't trapped. I had already witnessed many pidgey curled up and twisted in a silent wail for breath, their blocked lungs far too sensitive to deal with the fumes. I hated the sight—them with their mouths agape, their eyes wide and bulging while their bodies were stiff with death. A couple ratatta here and there had also suffered the same fate, and in the midst of it all I watched as a quagsire managed to leap from a window, only to fall to its bloody death on the sharp rocky shore below. I had seen blood splatter and turn the dark waves black as its rubbery body was swept away by the current. My heart went out to these pokemon…

My heart was howling in rage for the innocent pokemon dying here.

"Typhlosion! Scout ahead!" I ordered in a squeak at the brute force of strength. He was well equipped and had the ability to move faster than me in this situation. "F-find the Ampharos!" I coughed, hacking up a small portion of blood. Whatever chemical had started the fire here was much more toxic than I had imagined. My throat was pumping for clean air as I held my thin shirt fabric above my nose, tripping and stumbling on loose bricks that formed the spiral staircase. Ty ran on all fours, faster than any other fire starters I had ever met, and baying out, calling to the pokemon at the top—whether it be dead or not.

I panted, feeling horribly ill as the flames got closer and closer to this level of the lighthouse. It wasn't rational to think that something in the middle of the ocean could catch fire, but in all honestly the salt-murdered shrubs that dotted the island below were perfect fuel for the fire. The only thing that didn't fit was who would start such a fire?

I knew the answer… Team Rocket… Those good for nothing bastards that had nothing better to do than ruin others lives. Those who had taken many, many innocent pokemon at the Lake of Rage and forced them to evolve into angry, hate filled beings. I loathed those people with all my heart, and knew that if this was by their hands I would surely get my revenge.

I just had to save the lighthouse pokemon first…

It was no secret that the beloved pokemon bringing ships to shore had been sick lately…. The only thing secret about it at all actually was the fact that its sickness had no cure—or it hadn't been found yet. And something about the fact that it was a helpless and hurt as it is made me more determined to find the pokemon and bring it to safety. I felt as though I had a choice to save all the normal pokemon, or find the crippled one—and I would always pick the weaker. It was the heroic thing to do. Like a soldier, I believed that you don't abandon the injured. Leave no man or pokemon behind.

Typhlosion let out a pained roar, baying as a metal support beam toppled over and sent a wooden beam toppling down in front of him.

"TY!" I gasped, stumbling up to the half fallen stairs and diving forward. My ands felt upon his sides and I pulled back with all my might, managing to right the pokemon enough so that he didn't slide right off the side of the staircase and fall to his death.

He growled in panic, looking up at me with his dark brown eyes full of so much appreciation and trust and most of all, reason to go on. Determination hung on his face as I pushed to my knees, scrubbing a hand harshly down on his thick head.

"Be careful." I insisted, trying not to imagine what would happen if I ever lost my partner.

Together we turned and kept storming upwards, avoiding the crumbling brick and me holding my breath as he fumes tried to engulf me. Only a hundred or so more steps to the top…

My calf muscles were screaming in agony as I charged up the last flight, lungs screaming and tiny flames beginning to lick the walls below me. I hadn't the slightest clue how I would get out back down from this lighthouse, but that wasn't my main priority at the moment—it was getting to the top.

"Amphar—os!" I wretched, hacking up a thick lot of black spit and knowing it was a reflection of the ash in my throat. Gritting my teeth I went on, reaching the topmost platform and slamming my body full force against the door. It creaked and moaned, but gave away with one more thrust and the help of Typhlosion's weight. A way of ashes fluttered up at us as I stumbled into the topmost part of the lighthouse, where cracked glass windows were failing under the heat.

Typhlosion yelled for me, begging for a pokemon to answer him.

"Amphy!" I choked, running to the left of the circular room, lining the wooden and brick walls as the floor burned against my bare feet—I had been too distracted by trying to get Silver to stay away to remember where I had taken them off. Upon looking down I could see that two toes had lost nails and were bleeding immensely, and another was jammed so bad it looked to be sticking sideways in comparison to the others. The strange part was I felt no pain either, just a numbing ache in my chest as Ty and I begged for a response.

The lighthouse pokemon didn't deserve to die… it had already devoted its life to this place, and whilst being horrible ill for it, I couldn't imagine the pokemon wanting to die here. And even if it did that was a cruel fate—to have to die where you never lived in the first place.

Ty let out a muffled grunt, shoving up to be on his hind legs and pawing in the direction of a small cut out in the wall. It was so narrow that I hardly noticed even while squinting, and if it weren't for a very faint yellow light flickering in the dark cracks, I would have never expected the pokemon to have been hiding there.

"A—amphy!" I dropped to my knees and reached in, laying my strong hands on its skinny back—feeling the noticeably ribs in the process of gently turning it over and pulling it out of the crack.

It was so small… much smaller than any Ampharos should be, and it broke my heart to see that actual tears were slipping from its puffy red eyes, and its mouth was parted in a small gasp, chest heaving as blood poured out from its throat, all down my chest and pants.

"No…" I rasped, listening to the roar of flames from below us, and lying the fragile pokemon down on the hot floor. I ripped my shirt off jerkily, tugged the material in half, and then proceeded to bound the wound from losing anymore blood. Amphy jerked in response, its skinny hoofed feet kicking out in agony, silently wailing for help. Ty butted my in the shoulder as I scooped the helpless, limp pokemon up into my arms and cradled it to my chest.

"I—I'll get you… out." I felt tears swelling in my eyes as I imagined this poor thing dying in my arms.

I wouldn't let it… no…

"Shit. T—Ty!" I coughed, standing and breaking into a sluggish run, heading towards the only thing that I could imagine would be any help.

Ty wailed after me, fearing as flames began to dance through the holes in the floor, licking my bare feet and making me grunt. Everything was going up in flames now, and the smoke was so thick I couldn't see anything past the pokemon in my arms and the faithful companion at my side.

"Shit." I cursed, running to the long abandoned elevator doors. "Ty!"

My pokemon took a step back, twisting his long face up into rage and then hurdling forward, The rusty doors clattered and trembled, but did not budge. Ty went again.

Nothing.

Again…

This time a significant dent was created in the metal, and with one more blow Ty was able to create a hole the size of him through the old metal.

There was nothing but a chain link floor and a piece of infuriated metal to stand on, but I knew that this was it, the only way I would ever get out of here—if it worked that is—if I didn't die trying to make it work. Long iron beams created a ladder up the side of the old fashioned elevator, and beyond that was an obvious cable—thick as two of my fingers and sharp as my eyes—holding this metal box suspended in the hair while sea breeze made it rock and flames engulfed the room we had just narrowly gotten out of. Amphy was limp in my arms now, head lolling and mouth parted to drink in the heavy, soot filled air.

"Ty." I nudged my pokemon barely able to speak as the fire type feared flames of his own kind. "Cut it." I turned my face up to the cable holding us. "C—Cut it!"

Ty, being a faithful pokemon, knew that this would leave him suspended while me and the Ampharos fell—and he was ok with that because these conditions were ok with him. A couple scratches here and there wouldn't be any harm in comparison to mine or the ampharos' lungs. Mine and my pokemon's eyes met once, and i could feel my jaw clenching—my brow furrowing in hate for this whole situation. I looked down at the innocent electric type that had fought so hard to keep this lighthouse alive in the last few months—when really it just had to focus on staying alive itself.

Whoever would do such a thing was wretched, a monster, a murderer! I slammed my fist on the side of the chain link cage, making it rattle as Ty snorted at me in shock.

"Now!" I wailed silently, no voice coming out of my throat.

Ty bunched, growling in his throat at his crazy trainer for being so thickheaded and overall stupid. I knew my pokemon meant well, but now wasn't the time. Aphmaros was barely breathing now, it tail light completely burnt out as it lay against me. Ty clambered up the side of the steaming cage, using his large claws to grip between the chain link fence until he reached the top.

"Do it!" I mouthed at him as he perched himself on a beam. The lighthouse was only twenty or some stories high… I would live… so long as there was SOMETHING—hopefully a layer of damn sand—to catch us at the bottom. Shaking I slipped to the metal ground, holding my knees against my chest as Ty looked down at me. I could see the flames had rose above him now, and the orange glow behind the black foggy atmosphere made him look like a ghost. He made one last, scornful noise at me as I hugged the Ampharos to my chest, holding its head gently and nodding to my pokemon.

Ty raised a claw to that cable cord, and without a moment's hesitation he slashed, reaching out to snag the thick wire. We sagged down a foot as individual wires were snapping, losing the battle against the weight of the ancient elevator as each one gave away to my pokemon's attack. My heart caught in my chest as I watched, eyes wide as flames scorched around us—but not below in the old elevators cement path—and saw the last wire snap.

I braced myself.

Why?

Because what else could I do while free falling down a corridor of smoke and heat with a barely living pokemon in my arms? Ty bellowed down to me as I fell, echoing my thoughts as we lifted, flames roaring around us, just beyond the walls that trapped us in. All I could hope was that at the bottom the escape door would open…that is… if I wasn't crushed first…

Shit… I thought about every significant piece of my being as we descended for a moment, scorching the memories like flames in my head down to the even the most recent of telling Silver I would marry him one day—and I would.

My eyebrows knitted together in fury fueled by passion, and I braced myself, toes curling, arms rigid around the pokemon, and my heart fluttering for freedom.

I wouldn't die today. I was meant to be a champion. I was meant to marry Silver. I was meant to be so much more than just a life lost at an old lighthouse. That was the last thought I had.

Before we crashed.


	58. Chapter 58

~Falkner~

This quiet evening had gone terribly wrong… upon Silver's desperate phone call, hysterical because he was standing outside a burning tower as his lover was on the inside, risking his life for the lighthouse pokemon. I had torn myself away from Morty, shocked and appalled and rushing like crazy to get my pokemon together. All the while the ghost trainer yelling at me, saying that if I went he would skin my ass.

But I had to go… there was nothing in the gym leader's guide that said I could stay home and let others suffer. This was every bit as much my job as it was Jasmine's, since it was her city to begin with. This was Chuck's, Bugsy's, Clair's, Pyrce's, Whitney's, and even Morty's job as well. No one had the right to sit back and watch as a part of our beloved region went up in flames. I knew this, but a certain other selfish leader did not.

Morty was livid. And why wouldn't he be? His lover was rushing face first into a heap of trouble… and if he was anything like Silver than meant he was truly worried for my well being. The only difference was that Silver had no regard to hide his fear, while Morty showed it through anger and cursing at me.

"Faster Pride!" I yelled, my flight jacket flapping me in the face as the magnificent Staraptor pushed on, heading for a black, lapping ocean in the night. Morty would have to get over it eventually… it wasn't as if I didn't have a plan (actually I didn't have one at all, but I told myself I did). The smoke was far more powerful by scent at this point than by visibility. Across a sea of blackness I couldn't pinpoint any changes over the horizon. We circled the rocky shoreline, zipping past the water with Jake flying not a second behind us, using his agility to the advantage and slipping in and out of the hillside rocks until we broke away from that and severed the ocean all together. We flew higher, the harsh tang of fire stinging my eyes.

Birds were fragile pokemon when it came to their lungs; they often suffered a cruel fate because of that, so you can imagine how I felt rushing into battle with my beloved birds. It was perhaps the most dangerous thing I could take them into… but that didn't mean I didn't have faith. Pride was a warrior, he'd been trained for situations like this since day one, and Jake, even though he hadn't the same vicious and hardy nature, he was still trained in the same sense.

A faint glow rose across the ocean, and as the sky blackened I could suddenly see it right in front of me, going up in flames with a violent roar, snarling, popping, sizzling as bricks upon bricks fell, one by one toppling. Was I too late? Had Silver not managed to call me soon enough? Or was this all just far too quick paced? My eyes narrowed to see the shores of Olivine, alight with lanterns and flashlights and trainers of all shapes and forms, watching from across the land bridge as their beloved lighthouse burned.

Silver had said that Gold ran into the lighthouse as soon as it started on fire, but with no pokemon to help put out the chemical fire—water from Feraligatr would be of no use—Silver was left helplessly holding onto what little sanity he had left while his lover was still inside—and there wasn't much left to be inside of anyways.

"Jake! Go look for Gold!" I yelled to the handsome Swellow, his face strew into a scowl of determination and fear. He was a docile bird, not often wanting to fight, but proving one of the bravest pokemon I had ever raised when he had to be. He was cautious and loving with a good heart and I hated to send him off alone, but it was only rational considering Pride wasn't as fast as him with me on his back. I watched in dismay as my beloved bird shot forward, diving into a cloud of ash and vanishing long before we reached the lighthouse.

I didn't know whether to look for Silver and try and see if he knew where Gold had gone exactly, or if it was better just to look for Gold in the first place. Either way I would be risking mine and the young trainer's life, but I decided that maybe with a little luck I could manage to find Gold first and bring him back to Silver before something terrible happened.

"Pride head in!" I pulled down on the birds shoulder, signaling that I wanted to head towards the lighthouse rather than the shore. He screeched in confusion, but obeyed swiftly, switching paths until the smoke was literally too thick to see through. It was like trying to find a flashlight when all I could see was the light it reflection on the wall—being the equivalent of the orange glow on the waves. Everything was in demolition, even the small island the lighthouse sat on was charred and mangled looking, spattered with angry ashes that turned the sand black.

Pride wailed as we whirled around a small platform—the only standing piece of the roof left—and we were suddenly met with an unfamiliar baying. I jerked around, slowing Pride and whipping past the metal and concrete platform as flames engulfed what I could only imagine to be a pokemon—but not in pain by the way it sounded. I had to squint to see it, but knew from common sense that it was a fire type—no other type of pokemon could stand in such hell and be ok with it.

"Gold!" I called out, wondering before actually knowing that this was his pokemon, Typhlosion. There was another call as the stranded and helpless pokemon roared, stuck because any other side lead to a drop over forty feet down to the rocky shore below, and that would surely cripple if not kill the pokemon. My stomach did a terrible little flip flop as we came in close, hovering, Pride slapping his massive wings through the air as Typhlosion cried up at us, trying to say something we couldn't understand. Pride answered him sadly, shaking his head as the small platform trembled and creaked, swaying with Typhlosion's weight as he teetered in panic.

"Typhlosion! Stay! Don't move!" I ordered the pokemon. "I—I'll get you out of here—Pride!"

My bird fluttered forward to the platform's edge nails scraping the metal as he strained to find a grip that would not send the fire type overboard.

"Pride, take Typhlosion down to land— I swallowed—Don't drop him in the ocean or on those rocks!"

Pride screeched in disbelief as I released my hold on his shoulders and stepped onto the groaning metal platform. It was an instant, sever burning in the soles of my shoes, but I ignored it, reaching out to touch the head of the fire type. He growled at my in fear, eyes wide despite their beady appearance. Pride wasn't used to having anyone but me ride him, let alone another pokemon that was just as tall as him, but it was the only way.

"Hurry Pride!" I ordered as the Typhlosion trampled forward, leaning up on its hind legs as the platform screamed in protest. I ducked down, gripping the metal and gasping as it was so hot it seemed to melt my skin. Flames crackled all around, and I hardly had time to breathe before Pride had taken off with Typhlosion—what a sight that was too.

I wasn't sure how long this platform would last, but I surely didn't think it would crumble right out from under me, tipping sideways and old metal poles poked up through the air, reaching to the smoke filled skies as cables of all sizes dangled below me. I wasn't sure what this platform once belonged to, but I knew it wasn't holding, and just when I thought I was going to surely slip and fall—it had to be at a seventy or so degree angle with me holding on for dear burning hot life—Jake appeared, panicking and yet bowling into me, knocking me completely from the platform in the same motions that flames engulfed it. I narrowly avoided being burned to death as Jake's talons scrambled against my shirt, ripping it to shreds not a moment too soon. His nails dug into my wrists and hands, but he had managed a grip that was strong enough to support me before I could fall.

Jake was not a large bird like Pride, but he was strong and determined and that was enough to slow down our landing until he could drop me below—halfway into the freezing muddy water that lapped at the land bridge—and come crash-landing beside me. I gasped, the breath knocked out of me on impact, and looking up to see that I had fallen just in the path of something else.

"Fa—Falkner…"

I groaned, spluttering and coughing on a salty wave that struck me in the mouth. Shaking I tried to stand, pulling myself from the water and knowing that my cell phone was now totaled and Morty would truly never forgive me for this. My throat burned from the ashes, the skin of my hands raw and puffy as Jake righted himself before our calm, collected guest.

"Falkner…"

"Ja—Jasmine!" I gasped. "Go—Gold is—

She started running, not towards the castle but across the narrow land bridge with her long dress sloshing in the water behind her. Ember's flicked through the air and I couldn't even catch a glimpse of her face before she was gone.

"JASMINE!" I snarled, my heart pounding in my chest. How could see run away? This was her town! This was her life! I was here risking my own life for Olivine and it wasn't even where I came from. I devoted it with the same attention I would had it been Violet City, or Morty's beloved Ecruteak. And yet she hadn't even the decency to answer me? Jake whistled after her, high pitched and frightened as Pride reappeared in the distance, having left the Typhlosion somewhere on safe dry land.

Did Jasmine really hate me that much? That she would rather run from her own town to get away from me? Was she so jealous as to not even listen in a situation like this? I didn't know if she had seen Gold or not, I didn't know if she knew what caused the fire in the first place, or if the sickly lighthouse pokemon had died or not. I didn't know anything and yet she was so quick to flee—as if she wasn't a part of it at all. Anger shot through me like lightening as I watched the gym leader vanish onto the mainland beyond the smoke, my body throbbing from having landed so harshly. I decided right then and there that it should have been Jasmine to lose her gym over me or Morty. This whole thing proved that she was far too cowardly to be a gym leader—she didn't deserve such a title, unlike me who truly wanted it and worked every fucking day of my life for it.

If there was anything I truly hated in this world it was dishonorable people. I couldn't stand the lack of integrity. Didn't she realize that this was wrong? That without her town she was nothing? Didn't Jasmine have any respect to where she came from? Her upbringing? Hadn't anyone taught her about pride and honesty?

Cursing I stood, beckoning Jake forward because Pride was limping badly, a large gash in the foot where his prosthetic talon was (he had gotten it replaced after the fight with Renegade, and ever since he metal hook of a nail had been very deadly, expect of course when it was digging into his own skin.)

"Come on Jake!" I nudged the exhausted Swellow. "Hang in there!"

He was panting heavily, but not wounded so far as to be disabled. The bird launched itself from the soggy ground and landed halfway on my shoulder, perching himself as best he could as a wave of dizziness made his wings sag slightly, feathers shuddering. He slumped forward for a millisecond, then righted himself with a dark gaze—so much more determined than he was fearful.

Jake took to the skies again, intending to find Gold dead or alive before this whole thing blew over.

"Falkner!" A voice reached me then—something comforting because it saved us a whole lot of trouble just as we were about to go searching off again. Jake pivoted back around with a screech, shocked at the sight as much as I was.

Flames roared up from behind the tatter, ash covered, and sweaty boy. He was only seventeen, but you would never believe it based on his looks alone. His stomach was thick with muscle, his hips slender and firm, and his shoulder broad and fully revealed beyond the soot that covered him. In his arms lay the lifeless form of a pokemon, limp and matted with blood but held together with only just a black cloth material. Gold's expression wore anger—No, fury—as he trudged forward, a huge gash in his leg that rendered him every step of the way.

"G—Gold!" I lopped forward to meet the trainer, reaching out and pushing my shoulder up under the fallen angel from hell, so that he could lean on me. He refused though, too worried for the pokemon's sake and too eager to reach the shore where Silver was waiting for him.

"A—Are you ok?" I coughed, eyeing his wounds. "Is anyone else in the lighthouse?"

He shook his head at me, gesturing solemnly to his throat and mouthing words I couldn't understand.

"I—can't talk." He said without volume, just a mere ragged huff that reflected more of his hate. He made a sort of coughing motion, but was silent as ever while his chest convulsed, trying to loosen the smoke in his lungs. I blinked at him in misery, watching his eyes smolder like the fire as he trekked on, a true hero, his face dead set on getting this lighthouse pokemon to safety. I wasn't sure what exactly happened in that lighthouse, but whatever it was seemed to have thoroughly ruined his anterior. Or maybe it was just that fact that even breathing looked to hurt him.

Eventually Gold hadn't a choice but to let me help him, seeing as though his leg wasn't holding up and crawling was his only other option. I kept offering to take the Ampharos from his arms, but he would grit his teeth and insist otherwise, acting as if the motion of passing it to me would kill it. He let it rest against his chest, bleeding down the front of him while the soggy, calf-tightening ground turned to dryer sand and the lighthouse was a mere fall of flames behind us, completely engulfed and merciless. I wondered vaguely how many other pokemon had died in there, and then decided that it couldn't be so bad because the lighthouse had been abandoned and wild pokemon would know to flee.

Reaching the shore on the mainland was far more emotional than I could have imagined it would be. Gold managed to pull out a pokeball and capture the Ampharos before it had a chance to die, and I knew that with the help of a pokeball to preserve it, it would at least have a chance to survive. The amber eyed boy was then met by his lover, cursing and sobbing and looking like a half drowned Persian—only from his own tears. Silver hugged him so tightly, shaking and blubbering things so utterly unbearable and fluffy that I actually had to look away. It felt wrong to look into the bubble of such a private moment. I just barely caught sight of the kiss they shared—breathless, charred and as passionate as the flames that engulfed the lighthouse.

I turned, a stab of uncertainty hitting me in the chest as I imagined returning to Morty after having left him so abruptly. I had a feeling he wouldn't be so kind and relieved like Silver was… and more so pissed off and irrational.

"Falkner!" A familiar voice took me by surprise as Lance, the dragon master found me, placing a large hand on my shoulder and shaking me out of a daze. "Are you ok?"

I blinked and nodded. "I—I saw Jasmine…"

"What?" He turned his strange eyes on me, brow narrowing. "She's right here Falkner…"

My eyes turned up to see the cowardly girl on her knees in the sand, holding her chest as Bugsy asked her if Chuck had come. It was only rational that the fighting gym leader get here fastest—he was only across the bay after all, but it seemed as though he hadn't showed up.

"Ja—Jasmine!" I coughed, my chest tightening with anger. "Gold was still in the lighthouse! Why did you run?!"

"Falkner… please… this is hard for us all." Lance insisted quietly as the steel trainer's chestnut eyes looked up at me, lost and hollow and pooling with tears. Bugsy turned then, looking at me with worry.

"I'm going to find Chuck." He declared as Lance opened his mouth to protest.

"There's nothing else we can do." Bugsy sniffed. "The lighthouse is too far gone. It's pointless of me to stay here… and no one has heard from Chuck in over a week."

Lance was silent, sustained because he didn't want to let one of his leaders go of on his own. The dragon trainer pinched his nose irritably. "Fine but when you find him come back… we should all be together right now…"

Bugsy nodded, taking a pokeball out of his puffy pocket and jogging off further to release the bug, Scizor, which would take him across the bay quickly.

"La—Lance. I—I—I'm going wi-with Gold to the hospital." Silver spoke up, barely out of his hysterics as he hung up with a paramedic and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Gold was on the ground now, shaking slightly but looking livelier than the burning corpse he seemed to be before. Silver brushed his char-mottled hair back from his eyes and bent beside him, holding his face and whispering something terribly sweet in his ear. Gold was fighting a smirk, simply happy to be alive after all this, and knowing that with his throat too damaged to talk at the moment, that his story had time to form in his head. I was surprised to find he actually looked quite wicked—but then again why wouldn't he? He had just saved the sickly lighthouse pokemon.

"Of course." Lance nodded to the redhead. "And thank you Silver… for alerting us."

If I wasn't mistaking there was a small—very small—flash of jealousy in the master's eyes as Gold pressed into his lover, holding hands softly as Silver bent to kiss the top of Gold's.

"FUCK!" Clair, late and sassy as usual, was racing towards us in the sand, her breasts heaving with effort, trying to break free of her tight spandex uniform. Her long, elegant Dragonair followed smoothly, leaving a trail in the sand, scales glistening as the fire reflected off of them.

"Damn, I miss all the fun." Clair snorted, reaching me and placing her firm—for a woman—arm on my shoulder, which were exposed and cold in the February air, due to the slashes that Jake had put through my clothes upon trying to catch me.

"This is serious Clair." Lance snarled at his cousin. "Go make yourself useful and calm the citizens down."

"Fuck them." She crossed her arms, ignoring the orders. "It's not like they were in the fire."

"You're so selfish." Lance bared his teeth.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to try and put out the fire out. How about that?"

Lance couldn't do much other than agree, seeing as though she would do what she pleased regardless of—even if that mean potentially harming herself for stupid things like glory in putting the fire out.

"Let's go Dragonair." She snapped at the wild eyed, graceful dragon.

We watched silently as she left, quickly and scowling down at Jasmine who was in hysterics now, gripping the tops of her arms in hopes of trying to hold herself together. I couldn't read her expression, but I knew it was a combination of fear and something else. She gagged on her cries, shoving up from the sand and stumbling over to a more rocky area where she knelt over, her dress ripped and blackened, and wretched violently. I had to look away.

This was her town, of course she was upset, any of us would be… but of all things why would she have run away from it before? I didn't understand but I knew there was something more prudent than just the feelings rolling off of her. She was either the most spineless gym leader I had ever met, or her thoughts were on something else completely. It was utterly strange.

"Falkner, you really look like hell." Lance nudged me. "I want you to go get a hotel room and rest… or even better follow Silver and Gold to the hospital and get checked over."

I shook my head at him. "I'm fine… I wasn't in the fire as long as Gold—I—I only have a couple scratches."

That was an understatement of course, seeing as though my hands were thoroughly burned and my chest did feel thick with ash. I was still talking at least… and at that I knew I would be ok.

"Falkner… You're hurt."

"I'm fine." I insisted, turning away to go sit beside Silver and Gold. My legs felt weak, and at least this way Lance wouldn't see me on my feet as a threat. I had no intention of going back into the flames, since Gold was out now and the Ampharos was safely in a pokeball he churned in his raw hands.

Silver glanced up at me, eyes wide because his lover wasn't able to speak, but full of love and appreciation and deep happiness. "Thank you, Falkner." He huffed at me as I settled myself beside him in the sand. Gold nodded in agreement and Silver turned to wrap his slender arms around me, hugging so tightly I was sure I would crumble beneath him. Gold leant in and pushed his head to my shoulder, not quite a hug but strangely intimate as he huffed small painful breaths on my neck. I swallowed, biting my lip and knowing that things were going to be ok so long as I had these kinds of good friends. It was the source of my bravery, along with my birds and honor and—

"Falkner!" Morty's voice came suddenly, breaking the three of us apart with a horrified grimace. I flinched as the ghost trainer dropped down, snagging my wrist and tugging harshly until I met his eyes. Suddenly I didn't feel very brave or honorable. I felt like the coward.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Morty hissed, releasing me and then leaning forward to pluck me off the sand. I could feel a layer of sweat on his arms and through his clothes as he yanked me into his lap and tucked my head under his chin, encaging me as if I were bird.

"I—I'm sorry." I bit my lip, face twisting down into a frown. I noticed Gold reach out to touch Morty on the wrist, trying to make the ghost trainer understand that I should be rewarded for my stupid actions, not punished. Silent and fuming the ghost trainer hugged me tighter, pressing his face into me and taking along breath. I felt Silver's tender hand rub my back softly for a moment before he shuffled over and murmured something else to Gold.

"I—I can't lose you." Morty growled. "Well… I can but it would be miserable. Only being able to see you here on this beach—as a ghost. Not being able to touch you or hold you…"

Death would never be the same to Morty as it was for others, so u wasn't sure I understood his frustrations completely, but I knew better than to disagree with him, even as he picked himself up, dragging me along and setting me carefully on my feet, unsure of if I was able to stand.

"You're fucking batshit crazy." Morty kissed my blackened forehead. "If I didn't love you so much I'd kick your ass."

I sighed, knowing that despite his anger it was only out of love, and if it were any other way I wouldn't love him.

"Morty…" Lance came over, a look on his face of cautious. "I think Falkner should go get checked out in the hospital…"

"I'm fine." I insisted, muttering into Morty as the distant wail of an ambulance sounded. Gold looked up, eyes frowning as it shuddered to a stop beyond the sand. He would have to walk to get there, and the look on his face was displeased.

Morty shook his head slightly. "Just a good night sleep... that's all you need right?"

I nodded. That was much better than a trip to the hospital.

Lance sighed. "Alright…"

"We're leaving now then." Morty murmured standing and pulling me up carefully. His hand snagged around my waist as we moved away from the dragon trainer, passing the ill Jasmine again and seeing her sport us a look of fury. She didn't even hold back enough to spare the baring of her teeth. I actually flinched at the pure hostility coming off of the recently sobbing girl.

"Fuck." Morty huffed under his breath as we passed her. "What crawled up her ass and died?"

I shook my head, somewhat sad and a lot a bit of angry. Jasmine was not the gentle, loving girl that had welcomed me to the pokemon league of gym leaders so long ago. She was tainted now… her eyes glazed over in hate, and I wasn't sure whether it was more efficient to avoid her all together, or try and reach out and help.

Morty tugged me along gently, followed up by Gold who leaned heavily on Silver's graceful shape.

"Thanks again Falkner." Silver reached out with his empty hand and squeezed my wrist lightly. "Morty." He dipped his head at the gym leader, thanking him for simply being a friend, rather than having done anything like I did—Morty was far too selfish to risk his life for anyone but me.

"Always Silver." I hugged his side slightly. "Call me and let me know how Gold is tomorrow ok?"

Silver nodded.

"Of course."


	59. Chapter 59

~Morty~

There is a very fine line between love and hate… I believed this with all my heart, and especially when Falkner went and did something as stupid as put himself in danger for Gold—a trainer who I had more in common with then he did. At least… that's what I thought, considering our body shape, spicy personality, and dick size where almost identical. But the thing that I learned about Gold tonight was that he had more faith, and more bravery than I could have ever imagined. I didn't think the dark haired boy had it in him to go running into a burning lighthouse—but apparently he did, which reflected Falkner's same undying desire to do what was right from wrong. Gold ran in trying to help, Falkner runs in after him to help Gold help whatever the hell he was trying to help in the first place.

This shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, since Falkner was just that kind of person, but it did, because seeing him charred with raw hands and bruised legs and Arceus knows what kind of strained muscles was making me feel… strange. I didn't think I could suddenly feel MORE for Falkner than I already had—it had been love/lust at first sight after all, so why all of the sudden was this idea of losing him on my mind? I had already lost him once… and even though it felt like so long ago I came to realize that it hadn't been more than two weeks. Was this our honeymoon faze? Was I just seeing how truly precious he was to me? It wasn't as if this was the first time he had almost died in front of me—there was that time at Lake of Rage—but it was the fact that he went willingly, rushing into battle once again to try and save someone.

Did Gold understand just how dangerous his actions were to begin with? His actions triggered Silver into hysterics and made him reach out to Falkner for help, which had taken him away from me and turned me into an angry son of a bitch.

But I couldn't help it… I just loved Falkner too much.

"As soon as you're better…" I hissed lovingly in his ear from where we lay in the hotel room bed, me naked and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that hugged his toned thighs. "I'm going to punish you…"

Falkner shuddered, as if my threats were actually somewhat enjoyable and he was taking it as me talking dirty to him—and in a way I was. Nipping at the back of his neck erotically, hand creeping up his side because let's face it; I just couldn't get enough of him. He hissed faintly at my touch, biting his lower lip.

"What?" I inspected his hip, knowing that there were no bruises or scratches where I had been touching.

He huffed. "I'm so tired Morty… my dick is still bruised."

I kissed his shoulder slightly. "What's that have to do with anything?"

He looked up, pressing his lips to mine delicately. "Don't turn me on."

I sneered a smile. "Can't help it Sweetheart… I'm not even trying."

He sighed. "Is there something erotic about me being injured and wanting to jack off? I know it will only hurt… and I'm exhausted, but I—I can't stop thinking about it."

"I'll relieve you…" I suck hot kisses on his shoulder blade, pushing my hand down to grip between his legs.

"No way, I don't trust you." He clenched his arse and thighs together. "Last time you did that you disabled my penis for two days—and it still hurts."

"We used to wack off together all the time and I never harmed you then… come on, open up." I reached around gently, pushing my hand between his legs as he released them, pulling one up and hitching it behind me hip so that I had a clear path.

"You better be nice to me." He threatened.

"Shhh…." I palmed his warm crotch, letting my palm roll in circles under his lovely sack. It was ever so light, barely moving the skin below his boxers as his dick grew painfully to sport the remaining bruises from where I had manhandled him before. "Feel that…" I trailed my fingers up the long trunk that lay smothered against his stomach. My own dick grew lovingly at the sight, and being unclothed already it jerked against Falkner's freshly washed skin, probing his thigh and his balls with care.

He shivered softly, a tiny grunt escaping his lips. "I—I couldn't ask for a better way to end the day… it started out so shitty…"

"You have quite the shaft, Falkner." I murmured, fingers lining my words. "I like this part… right here." MY fingertip drew a line from the hardest, thickest part of his dick, being the base, just above his sack where the muscle underneath was hottest and a gentle vein lead. My finger's danced along his runway, teasing him because he was still so enclosed below his boxers.

"Mmmn… and this part." My fingers curled around the tight knot that was his erections head. It jumped slightly at my touch, my grinding it just a little. "I love that your skin doesn't cover it at all… and you can see it one hundred percent perfect."

Falkner laughed shakily. "I know what my own dick looks like Morty…"

"But you don't appreciate it…" I made move to slip his boxers down, forcing them away from his hips and thighs until his erection bobbed up and he leaned against me, his shoulder and back pressing to my front because I lay behind him. I didn't mind his position but…

I turned allowing him to lie flat on his back while I still remained on my side. His erection lay proudly against his stomach, nearly touching his belly button it was so long—he really did have a stunning one.

"I—I—

"Shhh… Sweetheart, Mmmn… oh baby, just feel it."

Falkner closed his eyes, raising his tarnished and bruised arms from his sides to pinch his own nipples, kneading them softly while I watched a grin across my face as his cock slipped into the shape of my hand. I didn't even have to pump him all that much, he did the work himself, proving that despite having been taken by me, he was still a man, and his instinct was still to be the one thrusting.

Slow, moving strokes, rhythmic, up and down tender rolling, my fingertip playing at his head as he let his other fall against the pillows, chin tilted back and eyes lazy, lolling with sexual desire and surprising romantic lust. Our eyes connected and though he didn't reach out to touch me, I felt like perhaps this was the most intimate moment we'd ever shared together. He had some serious bedroom eyes, lolling up at me as he moved a hand from his chest up to his lips, gently suckling the end of his ring finger, mouth open to reveal his hot, wet tongue sliding across the tender raw skin. My cock slipped between his cheeks then, reaching up to the underside of his balls until our erections rolled together with the movement of my hand.

"A—are you trying to be seductive?" I murmured.

He said nothing, just breathing heavily and sucking his finger with sloshy sounds that made my stomach curl with desire. I'd never seen Falkner look so… so talented at sex before. He tweaked with his nipple, sinking further into the pillows surrounding him. It was a strange sensation—even if I wanted to wack him off quickly and harshly and give him an orgasm that would rock his world, I wouldn't have been able to. It seemed despite me holding his dick; he was the one setting the mood. I felt like I was watching some rather sexual porno, instead of being a part of it. Maybe this was a tiny fraction of Falkner's independence? Was this the way he made love to himself before I came along? Sultry, hot, slow and steady because the world we lived in always moved too fast?

"Mmmnnnnn…" He growled throatily, the remainder of smoke in his lungs sounding rather intoxicating , gravelly, and passionate. I was so awestruck, unable to even move my hand anymore as his soft skin against my palm was his doing—I actually felt like he was fucking me, be it my mind or my hand or my soul I wasn't sure. And it truly shocked me too… I was so unbelievably dominant, and yet a sensation of submissiveness sent a shiver up my spine. If Falkner would stroke me the way he did himself, if he would roll those hips against my ass, filling me with his hard, hot length then perhaps it was worth it to be on bottom for once…

"Mmmmmorty…" he spoke my name, completely forgotten that I was even there. I felt the blood rush out of my head, making me dizzy at the utter sex he oozed—and all so suddenly too. I watched him, mimicking the way he licked his lips.

What. The. Fuck. Had. That. Fire. Done. To. Him.

Some exotic flame of passion that lapped at his skin making him so eligible to do this to me… how? Where was the awkward and adorable Sweetheart I knew? Or was he just a great actor?

Precum dripped down my hand, clear and sticky and thicker than usual. Falkner's fingers grazed the navy hair below his belly bottom.

"A—are you serious?" I blinked, mouth open in disbelief as the cum poured.

It wasn't even as if he had shot a load, it didn't stream anywhere, but rather slithered slowly to the top of his erection and bubbled out, growing into a soft milky wave while his face twisted into pure and utter pleasure, cheeks flushing and nipples perked and slimy spit soaked fingers as he convulsed without actually convulsing, holding back the jerks and just letting his fluids go.

I couldn't believe it.

Fuck.

He was so… erotic.

…

Well into the night there was a phone call, blaring high on my loudest setting because the only one who ever really called me was Falkner and he was with me… so there was no reason to turn it off or even on silent. Groaning I pulled my head up from where it lay limp in the glorious and numerous pillows. One of my favorite things about sleeping were pillows, and anyone who knew me well enough to have seen my bedroom would know I liked a lot of them. I had ordered more in this hotel room just so I could have more for Arceus sake.

"Get your phone Morty." Falkner kicked my lightly, half asleep and griping.

"Who the fuck is calling me?" I growled, flipping the covers off of me and stumbling to the desk in the corner of the room where it sat, vibrating and crying for attention. I looked at the name written across the bright screen and scowled. "Fucking Mr. Kiss my ass…"

"Answer it." Falkner grumbled. "It's probably important."

I touched the call button, yawning and scratching at my balls nonchalantly. "What?"

"M—Morty… I have news, I take it you are with Falkner, when he wakes up please pass this onto him ok?"

"He's already awake… we're both awake because you called."

"Sorry, but this is—I can't say this lightly but… well Bugsy found Chuck…"

"So what?" I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"He's was murdered…"

I opened my mouth for a sarcastic remark, expecting to hear something stupid from the dragon trainer, but in return finding that he wasn't joking in the slightest. Lance's voice cracked with remorse. "He was murdered… we've had the police out all night and they just now told us that it was ok to spread the news. Bugsy and I are still in Cianwood… there investigating, but I thought that I should spread the news. I've already told Pryce and Clair and Whitney…"

"What does he want?" Falkner looked up from where he lay, his expression calm but curious. I knew the look on my face made him worry.

"Morty… I—I know that you aren't a gym leader anymore… but… would you do us the favor…"

"You want me to talk to his ghost to find out what happened?" I clenched my jaw, knowing that I would have done that anyways, regardless of if he asked me, but also deciding that if Lance only wanted me for my abilities he had another thing coming. "Lance—I gave up my gym, I'm not one of you any—

"You can have your gym back." He insisted. "But we need justice… and we need you."

"For once." I growled. "You've never needed me before."

"Morty please… Don't you feel even somewhat bad about what happened? Chuck is DEAD."

I was silent as ever, remembering the very few times the heart gym leader and I even talked—I could vaguely remember one time where I told him to eat shit because he said I was too uptight, but the whole thing was out of drunk anger and really… I had no quarrel with the man but I didn't exactly enjoy him either. Falkner shuffled up and out of the hotel room bed now, slinking over and leaning up on his tip toes to listen as Lance went on.

"I suppose…" he paused. "You have a point… and im sorry… But plea—

"I'll think about it…"

"You'll think about it?"

"If you give me my gym back… I will do it." Despite the excitement over moving in with Falkner I couldn't ignore the fact that my life was still my own and it existed in that house with the ghosts. I loved being a gym leader; I wouldn't have given that up for anything except Falkner. He was the one exception—the one thing I loved more than I loved myself.

"Deal, thank you." Lance sighed. "You will have to wait until the investigators are done though… it will take a few days…"

"That's fine…" I murmured.

"Goodnight…"

I hung up, awestruck and feeling strangely dethatched from the whole thing.

"What happened?" Falkner's eyes were wide. He unlike me, cared for most everyone without having a reason. He was just that kind of person and being that he had lost his father only a year ago, I didn't want to know how he would feel about someone else dying… But of course it was only Chuck… Falkner had no serious history with the oversized mountain of a man. Maybe he would be fine… I took a deep breath, turning to look my Sweetheart in the eyes.

"Chuck was murdered…"


	60. Chapter 60

~Falkner~

"There there… Zephyr its ok…" I patted my beloved sassy bird in the head. "Don't feel bad… Lego doesn't know what she wants, trust me one day she will come around and realize that looks aren't everything…"

Zephyr pecked my hand viciously, chirping in misery as the little Chatot was curled up in a ball of fluff next to Pride, who looked down as if she had a third eye. Lego had just recently shown curiosity in the larger bird, and I couldn't help but think this was some terrible highschool drama going on in my sanctuary. For Arcues sake she wasn't even as big as his artificial metal talon! Zephyr was a much more suitable mate for her… Not that any bird should be bound to being with Zephyr… he wasn't exactly lovable.

Clair howled with laughter as she raided my kitchen cabinets, looking for the Goldfish that were right in front of her face. I could hear her cursing up a storm between her snorting because she thought it was hilarious that I had three boxed of hot chocolate. In my opinion you couldn't have enough of it, but apparently in her household it was rather a minimum of three bottles of tequila.

"Get off my countertop!" I yelled at her, able to see up her skirt as she leaned into the cabinet above my stove. "You're plenty tall enough!"

"You have a dead ratatta back here!" She gasped.

"WHAT?"

"Just kidding… where the FUCK are your FUCKING FUCK Goldfish?"

"Right in front of your face!"

"Oh…" She found the box, leaving my cabinet in a wreck and slipping down onto my floor again. She came over swiftly, dumping a handful of the crackers into her palm and then holding the box out to me.

"Gee thanks." I took some in my palm as well, but was met with a furious pecking as Zephyr dove in to eat them. I sighed as crumbs flew everywhere.

"So where is your sex toy?" Clair shoved a stack of magazines off my coffee table and sat down to face me. "I thought I'd walk in on you banging or something interesting… but no… you're having a therapy session with your bird."

"Don't be so mean." I scowled, hugging Zephyr tightly while my eyes were looking out the sliding glass door. Lego was swooning, singing to Pride while he tried frantically to get away without making her upset. I had discovered the other day that she was not only a lovely singer, but had painfully loud screeching siren-like wails when she was upset.

Zephyr hissed at her, though his eyes longed for attention.

"He likes you Clair." I pouted, folding the bird in my hands and holding him out to the dragon trainer. "Make him feel better…"

Clair laughed sarcastically. "I don't like feathery things."

I snorted at her. "Better than slimy scales…"

"Oh—OH?" Clair pulled her hand up to her ear, acting as if she didn't hear me. "What was that Falky baby? Are you challenging me?"

My eyes narrowed suspiciously as she plucked a goldfish from the box and threw it at me. "Put your money where your mouth is."

"What?"

"You think your birds are better than my dragons?"

I grinned quietly, folding my arms across my chest and leaving Zephyr to sit in my lap, stuffing his face into my thigh unhappily, shielding his eyes from the view outside.

"Not to be rude, Clair… but I—uhh… KNOW my birds are better than your dragons."

This time she threw the whole box at me—right at my head so that it sent a wave of the small orange crackers around.

"Hey! You're picking those u—No! Zephyr you can't eat all those!" I dropped to the floor after my bird and started scooping them up into my hands.

Clair laughed. "That's it, Falkner we're battling. I challenge you and your feathery ass."

I grunted at her. "Fine."

"A one on one battle."

"Sounds good to me."

"Great! Let's go now~" she jumped up, leaving the overturned box on my couch and stomping on a few crackers with her hooker boots.

"Dammit Clair! Help me clean these up now!"

She flipped me off, heading for my connecting door that lead to the gym.

…

"Let's go Pride!" I stood proudly on my gym leader stand, gripping the rail with one hand and pointing with the other as my stadium lit up with lights, having not been turned on in so long a film of dust covered them. It had been far too long since the last real battle I had, and I had to admit, it felt good. "Agility!" I ordered to the huge black warrior.

"Dragon dance!" Clair turned into someone else almost instantly, her eyes blazing with rigid, cold passion, her hands elegant as she flipped her hair back and twisted her face into a terribly crooked smile, grinning evilly at the start of our match. I watched as her extremely long Dragonair coiled, rolled on my twig and wood floor as Pride launched himself from one wooden beam to another, gripping the ceilings with that single metal claw alone and hanging upside down like a bat to watch the dragon pokemon as it slithered forward, mouth agape and pointed in the direction of him. The Dragonair let out a soft, merciless wail as its scales erupted in a display of colors, flashing in the bright stadium lights as it slithered forward.

"Pride, go! Ariel ace!"

The bird dropped, a stunning pace with his wings folded back to form a sort of bullet shape, twisting mid air until he fell beside the dragon and was able to lash out, striking with a rather sharp wing and then hitting the ground as if he was plucking a magikarp from the pond out back. He narrowly missed the slithering creature as it wriggled from his grasp, then using its pure muscled body to lurch into the air, whipping its long tail out and clipping Pride on his back. I flinched as a narrow slash reached his skin and blood spattered a nearby post.

"Right yourself!" I yelled to the pokemon who shook his head and flapped up, gripping the high beams again to give himself a chance to deal with the pain and suppress it.

"Dragon breath baby!" Clair preformed a horrendous dance move, as if she could really hear the radio that was playing in the background—actually you could. There was some ridiculous hip hop song that involved too much grinding and more repetition than I could count. Clair was such a ghetto whore… and I meant that in the most loving way…but still.

The ceiling rumbled as Dragonair launched an attack far too slowly to strike my pokemon. Pride was fast and strong and with the right tactics he was extremely hard to hit—the only problem here was that I would have to attack at close range and that would give Dragonair a chance to truly strike.

"Hey Falkner!" Clair hooted as I kept my keen eyes fixed on my bird, through a puff of dust that had been released after the attack. I reverted on instinct alone, glancing at the dragon trainer and looking away only to double take again and find that she had whipped her boobs out and were shaking them. "IF YOU LOSE YOU HAVE TO GET IMPLANTS! TRIPPLE D's BABY!"

"Shut the hell up Clair!" I shook my head. "And put those away! PRIDE!"

The large black bird dropped from the ceiling with a screech, parachuting with his wings and lashing out at the tail end of the dragon until his talons where able to sink into the hard scales.

"Sky attack now!" I forced myself to avoid looking at Clair, who had one breast per hand, kneading them and making them jiggle as if I was attracted to it.

"FUCK! CLAIR STOP IT!" I snarled, shielding my eyes. "Pride-! FUCK CLAIR DO YOU DO THAT TO ALL YOUR CHALLENGERS?"

The Dragonair coiled between my birds talons, slipping easily about in the air as a strange, almost magical light came over him. His feathers looked transparent for a brief second under the light of the stadium, and I could see every lean bone on his body as he twisted, dislodging the slithering creature in mid air and diving down, tucking his wings in once again.

I crossed my fingers swiftly, benignly as the bird hurdled towards the ground. It was much harder to grip a pokemon that slipped away so easily, but I couldn't help but notice that his metal talon was precisely placed between larger scales. I grit my teeth as he neared the ground, not quite releasing the dragon but dragging it through the brittle terrain of my stadium until it couldn't hold on and slipped off, slithering silently around so that it could avoid the vicious slashes my pokemon set upon its flank.

"FACK." Clair waved her arms in anger, her boobs still flopping about outside of her jacket and making me flinch—Arceus there was NOTHING attractive about that at all.

"Alright Pride!" I wailed to my pokemon. "Go on! One more! Ariel Ace!"

"Dragonair! Dragon rush!"

"Watch out!"

"No!"

"FALKNER!"

The lights shut off in the stadium with a terrible buzzing, humming to a silent stutter as Pride—having such advanced eyes—stopped himself before hitting the ground. Dragonair on the other hand, launched an attack in the wrong direction and made my leader's post groan with effort.

"Morty!" I gasped, recognizing that voice from the entrance to my house. I turned, eyes squinted in the dark as I tried to see but couldn't. The lights slowly droned to life again, revealing the confused ghost leader.

"I didn't think the lights would be on…" He explained, seeing the battle and twisting his face into a sheepish but satisfied smile.

"Fuck you Morty!" Clair wailed. "Falkner was about to have triple D's!"

"I never agreed to that bet!" I yelled across to her as our pokemon stood bewildered and confused at the sudden stop. I noticed that Morty also left the door open long enough to let Zephyr and Lego in. The obese pidgey landed awkwardly on my shoulder after a tedious flight—that shouldn't be tedious t all—while Lego sang happily over to Pride, who stood proudly sporting his shallow cut, ignoring the much younger bird in return for dipping his head to the elegant Dragonair. She returned the nod politely, making Lego bounce back in misunderstanding.

"There is a reason they don't make bra sizes that big Clair." Morty stormed over to me, hauling himself up onto the large pillar and standing at my side. "Why the hell are your disgusting sacks hanging out?"

Clair looked down, realizing that her business was still hanging about. "OH… yeah huh." She made effort to stuff them back into her shirt.

"What is going on anyways?" Morty snagged me around the waist, moving in for a nonchalant kiss. "I got the paperwork signed this morning, the gym is mine."

I pecked him back swiftly, enjoying the painless zap between us before stopping and remembering that only two days ago, the night the lighthouse burnt down, Chuck had been discovered dead in his gym with numerous stab wounds and enough water in his lungs to fill a swimming pool, and with the combination of how much had soaked into his skin, probably a lake. The poor gym leader—he was always a nice guy to me, I had no desire to see him leave… and yet I felt a stab of guilt because I was extremely happy that Morty was able to have his gym back now.

"I was proving to Falkner that dragons are better than birds." Clair announced as she came over, breasts in place now. She returned her pokemon after rubbing its sleek head lovingly.

"Bullshit." Morty rolled his eyes. "Ghosts are the only truly indestructible creatures, all your beloved dragons are going to be ghosts one day Clair, and that makes ghost pokemon the ultimate type."

"Except when they get into a fight with a normal type—like birds." I elbowed him. "Then they are useless. So who overpowers then huh?"

"It's a vicious cycle Falkner… but even your pokemon turn to ghosts too."

I pouted halfheartedly. "You're so arrogant."

"And you're so fucked tonight."

"SEX." Clair yelled up at us from below the pillar I stood on. We glanced down, having been engaging forward to kiss more passionately, our hands twisted into a knot as I leaned against him.

"You guys—seriously?" She grimaced. "I've heard of love birds, but Falkner—really how do you explain yourself?"

"Clair—

"Really, I mean he just barges in here an—

"Clair!" I yelled.

"What?"

"Shut the hell up." I turned, grinning to kiss Morty, who looked so happy today it took my breath away. It wasn't often that the ghost trainer truly smiled without it being sarcastic or narcissistic, and I couldn't help but this it was a good look on him. If he smiled like that more often—revealing his white edgy teeth and his eyes narrowing because his cheek bones pushed up—then surely people wouldn't be so suspicious of him. I breathed swiftly, holding his waist as our lips turned to tongue and his scent drifted into my nose—warm, musky, sexy.

"Mnn… Clair go away." Morty moaned through the kiss, kneading my toned arse.

"How much of a fucking hello do you two need?!" Clair through her arms up in exaggeration. "Fine, I'm going to eat you're goldfish."

Zephyr launched himself from my shoulder at the word, wanting crackers to fill his broken heart. I pulled away from Morty with a snort.

"You can eat the ones in the trash!"

"I do what I want!" She through back at me, flipping her hair around.

A low growl rose in my throat as I pressed my face into Morty's chest. "She's going to waste all my food and then I will starve."

Morty chuckled softly. "Are you hungry? I'll feed you tonight."

"No its fine…" I shrugged. "No big deal…"

"No really." He smiled down at me, a passionate and careful grin. "You know we have never really been on a date—since the day at the Lake didn't exactly work out… Let me take you out tonight."

I blushed slightly. "You're not going to take me to a movie and try the "stretching an arm around the shoulder" thing are you?"

"No, Sweetheart that's way too cliché." He kissed my forehead. "We can go out tonight instead, hit a club or two…?"

I looked away, trying not to remember just how horrible and wonderful the last time we were at a club was. I nodded though, knowing that without the drama of the other gym leaders being there we could have a more peaceful night. And if I were to be honest with myself, a drink didn't sound all that bad (funny how at first I refused to drink at all).

"Alright… sure."


	61. Chapter 61

~Jasmine~

I sat, shivering softly in the pokemon league lobby, on an off Wednesday, two days after the lighthouse burnt down—after I burnt it down. And I was so afraid… so guilty and full of anger that I could hardly contain the emotions rattling deep within my frail bones. I hadn't eaten in a few days, and seeing as though my stomach—an ulcer most likely—rejected any substance I was barely alive to say the least. I felt hallow, insecure, ugly, and most of all confused. My body was pale, skin like chalk rather than the soft peachy color it used to shine. My eyes looked flat and dull, no longer the dusty chestnut they were. I was started to fail, my hips too narrow to touch or even brush one another as I walked—I surely looked like an anorexic rather than the slender, healthy woman I used to be.

I ran through a list of acts I had done in the last few months, checking them off in my head as I sat waiting, holding myself together in the soft plush of a hoodie that once belonged to my father—trying to remember who I was in the process. First I had gotten jealous, then I had been raped and sought out for vengeance. I was harmed in a club. I had tormented numerous pokemon to death—killing all three of my partners and initially regretting it.

Steelix had never done anything wrong… he had only loved me unconditionally like a pokemon should—and I loved him in the same manor—and while I went out and acquired a new female pokemon to raise in his place, I knew it would never be the same. This was the first flaw in my reckless planning. The second was the fact that I had to pin the lighthouse incident on someone, and though I knew who, I didn't know how. Plus I wanted to tie the whole thing into Chuck's death… without it concerning me that is.

"Jasmine?" A soft-spoken male approached me, a tender smile on his narrow, Persian like face. It was Will, the most mysterious of all the elite four members. "Lance is ready to see you… you can go to the meeting room."

His smile was genuine, proof that he didn't notice my ragged appearance, or that he was a good enough actor not to let it show. His teeth gleamed like the sparkles on his flamboyant mask, and I couldn't help but feel a spark of assurance. My whole like I had enjoyed the company of soft, more feminine men—which was my down fall when I fell for Falkner, since he's gay now—but it was a heart reminder that I was still somewhat of the person I used to be. My preferences hadn't changed, even though if you put me in a room alone with a very masculine man I would probably feel threatened.

Shit.

"C—Can't Lance come out here?" I whispered, hugging my knees tightly and not making eye contact with Will.

"I don't suppose… Lance doesn't care for me all that much—we fight all the time—so I know he won't listen…"

I took a deep breath. "O—Ok…"

"Sorry…"

"N—No its fine." I pushed away from the chair in the lobby, anticipating this one on one meeting as if I were a whore selling myself to the devil. I couldn't handle masculinity—I hated it with a passion, even if it was perhaps the most stunning of this worlds natural creations.

"You know where to go." Will pulled a clipboard out from behind his back and made a scribbling noise as I turned and walked off, legs wobbly from lack of nutrition.

The door to the meeting room was open to my preference, so I didn't have to waste energy pushing the heavy thing open just to re-closing it when I was inside. However this meant that Lance didn't find the meeting important enough to be confidential, even if he didn't know yet what I wanted to talk about.

"Hey!" A loud, demanding voice shook me to the core as I walked, freezing in my tracks as a second Elite four member shower up—having been high school sparing partners with none other than Chuck. It was Bruno. I shivered as his huge hand reached out for me, though not touching me because it would surely crush my thin, boney shoulder if he did. "Jasmine Hun, I'm so sorry about you're loss… Chuck really loved you, yah know?"

I nodded silently, a feeling stirring inside of me. The look on Bruno's face showed great depression for his lost friend, and I knew that this was just another human being I had hurt in the process of killing Chuck. My chest felt tight with hate, though I hid it well behind my solemn eyes—did Bruno know what kind of love Chuck felt for me? Did he realize that it wasn't the Uncle-to-niece love that everyone thought it was? Did he know that Chuck had only "loved" me because I was a reflection of my mother—the woman that ran away after cheating with him?

"Sorry… I—I understand. You can't talk about it yet." Bruno took my silence as sorrow for his death. "But if you ever need anything, hun, you can trust us here to back you up."

I was surely counting on that…

"I have to talk to Lance." I whispered coldly, turning away from the man and letting my lungs have air again. I hated this feeling… I hated thinking that every masculine figure in my life would harm me.

Clair passed me in the hall as I approached the meeting room, long and powerful legs strutting in high heel boots because she was just _so great_ that it was necessary. I glared openly at the woman, envying he strength and body because it was something I could never have.

"You look like shit." Clair shot over her shoulder as she realized I had started a war with my eyes.

"Clair you bitch." Lance appeared, having heard the remark from the doorway. "A little respect!"  
I frowned, feeling smothered by Lance's powerful voice and strong muscles already.

"That's not what you said when I was sucking your pathetic wiener last night." Clair barked, strutting away and leaving Lance red in the face.

"Where were you today anyways? Clair!" Lance roared over me, making me flinch and shudder.

The dragon gym leader turned and crossed her arms, a smirk across her plump lips. "I was at Falkner's having a giant orgy with him and his birds. And his dick is bigger than yours by the way."

Lance let out a low, throaty sigh. "Go find Karen, she was looking for you."

"Why?"

"I don't know! Just go!"

The dragon trainer flipper her mentor off before turning and leaving for good this time. Lance pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Sorry Jasmine… there's no living with her, trust me."

I nodded as he gestured for me to enter the familiar room, feeling quite small in comparison to his massive size. I wanted second next to nothing to do with being alone with Lance, except for this plan of mine to work. I forced a clean breath as the dragon trainer approached a mini fridge, pulling out a casual bottle of soda and offering me something when I sat down in my usual chair—intending for him to do the same and be four seats away from me.

I shook my head at his offer, though my stomach snarled for something—anything.

"So how are you?" Lance murmured, shutting the little door and reaching the seat beside me—perhaps gesturing that he wanted me to think of him as an equal instead of a leader. It surely wasn't that way when we held league meetings… but in a strange way I knew he was only acting out of being courteous. I would have appreciated that if I wasn't so damn afraid he would rape me.

"I—I have to tell you something." I began in a pained voice, setting the thoughts in my head straight as the leader opened his bottle of soda and took a quick sip, flinching at the carbonation that hit his nose.

"Lance… I—I think I know who killed Chuck."

He nearly spit his drink everywhere in shock, pulling his sleeve up and covering his mouth as he forced a swallow that left him breathless. "Jasmine, why didn't you say anything before?"

"Be—because I didn't want the other gym leaders to know."

"Well don't be shy, go on!"

I took a long, steady breath, focusing on the wood grain table before me, and wishing that the words would form on their own. This wasn't originally part of my plan, but it all seemed to fit into place now.

"Morty." I whispered.

"What about him?"

"I—I think he killed Chuck!"

Lance turned a rather pale shade, staring down at me mystified and trying to grasp the pointing finger. He blinked once, mouth parted slightly and then clenching his jaw. "Ja—Jasmine… you realize what this can do?"

"Of course I do. Wouldn't you rather have a suspect than no one at all?"

"Why though?" He pierced his strange, pale yellowish eyes into me. "Why Morty? This doesn't have something do to with your jealousy does it?"

"How dare you!" I snarled.

"Well it's no secret that you're jealous of Falkner and Morty…"

"Lance you can't deny this." I brought my skinny hands forward and twined them together on the table. "Morty lost his gym, isn't hat reason enough to believe he would kill Chuck? So that he could get his spot back?"

Lance shook his head. "Morty forfeit his gym, if it meant being a murderer to him, then he wouldn't have given it up to Falkner in the beginning. He would have kept it himself."

"Love is a powerful thing Lance, and like hate it can't take advantage of you… think about it. Just consider the options. Why would Chuck have been killed in his own gym? He couldn't leave the doors open for strangers to walk in, and the gym door were locked—untouched when Bugsy found him. How could someone break in without damage to property? Unless of course… they had the help of a ghost to lock and unlock doors."

Lance scowled quietly, contemplating as I went on. His was held no regard to disbelief, but no desire to believe either.

"Just because Morty forfeit his gym to Falkner doesn't mean he wouldn't want it back…"

"Well why Chuck?" Lance enquired, sipping his soda as if it tasted terrible.

"Why not? It could have been any of us…" I tilted my head to the side, perching my lips and forcing him to meet my gaze. I needed this—I needed him to believe me no matter how scared I was. "Morty has always been the odd man out, Lance don't you remember how strange he was before Falkner came along? Don't you remember what an outcast he was? The weird things he did—he talks to the dead, he might as well be the dead, ok Lance you're a fool if you think he wouldn't kill as well."

"Morty is going to talk to Chuck's ghost as soon as the investigations are done…" He said to himself.

"And what better way to cover his own tracks?" I smacked my hands on the table. "Use your head Lance!"

"We don't have enough evidence!" He insisted. "Jasmine—I'm sorry, I know you want justice for your uncle, but I can't go about it this way…"

"So what are you going to do then? Give Morty his gym back? Doesn't that feel wrong? That was Chuck's spot!"

"Someone needs to step up and Morty is the obvious answer." He crossed his arms. "I already signed the gym over to him anyways, as of this morning he's back on the list."

My stomach twisted with hate for the ghost trainer—the man that stole Falkner away from me. It seemed I was too late to stop this in its tracks. Furious I stood, shoving the chair out and letting it tumble over onto the floor.

"Jasmine!" Lance reached out to me, unsuccessful as I stormed out of the room.

"You're a fool Lance!" I snarled. "A fool!"


	62. Chapter 62

~Morty~

Well this was supposed to be mine and Falkner's date… but…

Gold's hard rolled into my hips, grinding as his solid shoulders—the same cut and bruised shoulders from only two days ago—pressed into my chest, pinning me to the beat of the music while Falkner downed another shot with Silver, completely unaware of the consequences come morning light. A merciless snarl rose in my throat as I flipped Gold off of me, letting him roll into the cushions lining our private booth. His foot knocked Silver's drink all over the redhead, causing him to curse with alcohol tears in his eyes.

"G—Gold yo—you shithead." Falkner slurred, pulling the precious redhead into his chest and holding him. Gold made a low groaning noise as he scrambled back to meet me in battle, furiously ripping at my clothes because he was just far too gone. The bourbon was thick on his breath, heavy and hot like his thighs as we rolled away from the two more docile boys who stroked each other's hair, wide eyed and not quite wasted, but far past tipsy.

Alcohol took far longer to affect me than it did these other three, so I was still coherent enough to remember that this should have been Falkner under me and not Gold. I felt a pang of jealousy as Silver sniffed, pouting at his spilled drink as Falkner simply passed him the whole damn bottle. From the corner of my eye I could see the redhead suckling on the head of it, not sure if he wanted to tip it back or not. Falkner shook his head then, plucking the bottle away from his lips and pressing his head against the other who made a soft, low squeal of pure angst.

"He—hey honey…" Falkner curled his arm tighter around the redhead, hand shaking through his long luxurious foxy locks. "Look Gold is winning…"

"No he's not!" I tossed the thick underage drinker off of me, flipping him back until he tumbled through the curtain that separated our tiny lounge booth from the rest of the club. Gold vanished with a hard thump, and I could hear someone shriek with fright from the other side where they were not expecting a stud to come flying out of. Falkner giggled at me.

"Y—your dick is out."

Growling I looked down, seeing that Gold had achieved undoing my belt and pulling my hardened member from my jeans.

"Why don't you take care of that for me Sweetheart?" I suggested, crawling forward to the navy haired boy and his lithe companion. Silver shrunk into himself, being the crying kind of drunk, he hid his face into Falkner's shoulder.

"Mnn." Falkner grunted. "Kay."

I spread my legs swiftly, holding the massive rod out to Falkner as he bent forward, slipping to his side and pulling Silver down with him—not intending on letting the redhead go. Silver, though fearful and shivering, brought forth enough effort to reach out and poke the head of my beast.

"G—Gold?" He asked the erection. "Y—you're longer…"

"Fuck! Silv, that's Morty!" The young stud clambered back into the booth with us as Falkner nibbled along the bottom of my cock, flicking his tongue at the fresh skin as Silver opened his mouth, perhaps thinking that it was still Gold before him, and butting Falkner out of the way to latch onto me like a leach. I let out a small gasp as the redhead flinched and moaned, leaving a trail of burning saliva from his parted lips as Gold tried to yank him back—just sober enough to understand his lover was about to give me a full on blowjob.

Falkner pulled away from me then too, turning to Silver and wanting more attention from him than from me for a moment. He groaned, lips shiny and wet and curled his legs and arms around the others torso, pinning him because alcohol told him to.

"Dammit Falkner, I'll tear you a new one if you don't let him go!" Gold threatened the bird trainer.

Baring my teeth I tackled Gold. "Gonna fuckin' threaten him! I'll fuckin' kill you!"

Gold rolled again, twisting us into a tangle of pure angry heat as our mouths collided drool and teeth clacking together as I gripped his hips and pounded him into me, hard, twice as fast until it hurt my balls against his jean tightened underside. He clawed at my chest, refusing to submit as Falkner, dead set on giving a blowjob, twisted Silver into a lovely 69 and pulled the slender erection out.

Thank Arceus no one could see through curtain and the music was loud enough to block out our cries.

Silver let out a soft shriek as Falkner's tongue preformed a hasty trick on the slender one.

"Fa—FALKNER!" I hissed. "Stop it!"

Silver leaked furiously, wetting the red velvet cushions his hips fell upon. This was strangely another reminder of how dominant Falkner could be despite him having always been on bottom. His aqua eyes were soiled with lust and laziness as he turned Silver's precum around on his tongue and swallowed. "Way more salty… than Morty…"

"SHIT that's hot!" Gold gasped, awestruck by the contrast in Falkner's dark navy hair and his lover's vibrant foxy locks. The heavier teen below me grunted as his erection was smothered beneath his clothes and my body.

I didn't want to admit anything—or be the stick in the mud—but even I knew that this was a huge mistake. Gold, Silver, Falkner, and I could not do this…

Not here that is.

"Shit. Put you're dick away!" I snarled, wishing I was drunk enough not to care. With a lopsided swat I pushed Falkner over, freeing Silver before he could blow his load. Grunting the bird trainer looked up at me, his pants halfway down and his belt undone, begging for more.

"Silver!" I snapped. "We're leaving! Pull yourself together!"

The redhead shrank tears in his eyes for no reason as I ordered him about. Gold, who was far worse off than any of us, was sucking on my ankle as if it were a bone and he were a growlithe.

I cursed aloud; reaching down to Silver and yanking his pants back up. I stuffed his hard back in and zipped his quickly before turning to Falkner, who was in mid motion to clip his belt back together, a deep concentrated scowl on his face making his eyebrows pinch together. Gold on the other hand, took far longer to control, and I wound up in another round of vicious biting and licking and slobbering all over one another until he finally realized that I wasn't saying NO to this, I was just saying NOT HERE.

The bar seemed to have all eyes on us—gym leaders and trainers alike—as we stumbled through the dance floor looking for the exit. There was a hazy film over my eyes now, as the alcohol finally started to sink in. Gold grabbed Silver and tossed him over his shoulder demandingly as I gripped Falkner's hand, casting him a sidelong glance to see that he was smiling lazily, enjoying the sizzling freedom in the pit of his stomach. I snorted softly, wondering how bad it would be tomorrow when we all woke up—but then decided that I didn't care.

…

"Ah! Ahh! AHH!" Silver wailed to high heavens as Gold entered him, far too quickly on the bed beside me, the sides of our naked hips rubbing each other as I knelt over Falkner, ravishing a single nipple as if it were the end of the world and I would never see that nipple ever again. The two boys on bottom were clutching each other, Silver turned sideways with his leg up over Gold's shoulder while the strong, long erection tore at his puny hole. Falkner kissed the redhead swiftly, wetly as I slid two fingers into him from below, watching his own dick jump and jerk with surprise at the sudden pressure. It seemed the more Gold and I did to our lovers, the more they clung to each other in desperation, and that pissed me off.

Gold grunted, strong and loud next to me as he went into Silver dry, bringing forth a small bit of blood and uncaring as though he was actually sober and they had done this before—they probably had. Even so the whole idea of screwing dry turned me off, and out of anger alone I turned and shoved Gold hard enough to dislodge him from his lover. He slumped over, rod piercing, angry purple and standing at attention as precum drooled down, finally lubricating the skin. Silver flipped over onto Falkner then, surprising me as I turned to kiss the other gym leader and was met with the redheads narrow backside. Deciding that it wasn't unattractive in the slightest I knelt in and placed my mouth between his taut cheeks, spitting expertly and slipping my tongue to soothe the raw hole. Poor sexy redhead, going full on without any preparation—I ought to slap Gold, that son of a bitch.

Hazy and lolling Gold pushed against me, muttering something about his property and then dipping down to slurp against the skinnier teens narrow dick; intoxicating, loving, fleeting as he sucked lips with Falkner.

Silver surely had the best position out of all of us—he was right in the middle with all the attention drawn around him, and all this time I had never known he was such an expert at sex.

A snarl rose in my throat as Gold turned, confused in his stuttering, slurred mind, and finding my face the next center of attention. He drew a long line of Silver's precum up my face with his tongue before I pulled back, flinching away from the slithering wet morsel in my ear and diving atop the underage trainer, abandoning the two smaller males to cuddle and rub against one another.

Gold was not easy to grab, he was thick and strong and alcohol made him a dead weight in the wrong places. He had nearly unnatural muscles, rolling heavy muscles that made Falkner's lean and sturdy body seem frail in comparison. I couldn't say I truly liked the change, but I wasn't so turned off by it to care—I was actually very turned on.

Gold pinned me then, given my moment of thought to sidetrack me, and ripped my legs apart with a harsh jerk. He snarled, a wicked grin across his face and eyes so dilated he looked unreal; some fallen angel from the depths of hell to rake havoc upon my body with that monstrosity called a cock. I flinched as he pinned one thigh to the—floor? When had we fallen on the dirty hotel room floor?

Falkner and Silver moaned with each other from above us, their feet visible as I writhed and thrashed with Gold, refusing to let him dominate me in any sense—more or less I was concerned Falkner would become too familiar with the redhead, regardless of what the rest of us were doing. With a solid thump I flipped Gold over, turning the tables and pinning him to the floor, eyes scorching violet pools as I leant in and put a not-so-violent kiss on his mouth. Our tongues rolled together for a moment, subduing the fire in his heart so that I could leave him breathless and scramble back up to the bed.

I snagged Silver around the waist, pulling him into my shape as he was curled up at Falkner's side, just about to be entered in by my dominant lover. Falkner screwed up his face in the low light coming through the window, unsure of the disappearance and whimpering out for Silver as I replaced him, smothering the bird trainer despite the alcohol—and hugging him tightly.

"Mmm… Morty?" He let his head fall on the pillows, rolling back and smiling faintly.

"Is me… mmm…. Sweet—hehe—heart." I laughed faintly into his neck, forgetting Gold and realizing that this truly was the only place I wanted to be—Silver pawing at my shoulder or not. Falkner was by far my number one, even with alcohol and two other highly attractive men here, I still held Falkner so high above that it actually hurt somewhere deep in my chest. He was my Sweetheart; I grinned lazily into him as he spread his legs and pushed his hips up against mine.

"Ta—take me." Falkner whispered, and I did so.

Silver lay beside Falkner, stroking his hair and watching with metallic shining eyes as Gold managed to get himself up off the floor and crawl to his lover. The male loomed over, watching as I worked myself into Falkner slowly, waiting for an assured green light—the pleasure on his face—to really mount him. My bird trainer flinched, opening his mouth in a small O shape and wetting his lovely pink lips. I watched as his face slipped over to Silver and the two curled into each other more, making out suddenly hot and sweaty and reeking of alcohol as Gold came beside me, matching my every stride.

Falkner and Silver wore the same expression—ecstasy, pure, beautiful, stunning ecstasy as their eye lids fluttered revealing monotone grey and glorious aqua, looking back up at us, and in my case, pressing his face into my shoulder as I lay atop Falkner. Gold preferred to take Silver from behind it seemed, which wasn't exactly bad because that gave Falkner the chance to hold Silver's slender erection in his hand, which meant that between that and their lips we were all connected. Four of us—id never had an orgy before.

Burning with passion I raised my head, letting Falkner focus on pumping the redhead as Gold stood on his knees above the rest of us, ramming harshly until the repeditive slap was probably heard all the way to the fucking lobby. I hissed a smile, lip curling as Falkner's inner walls contracted against my cock, gripping it with a loving heat as Gold leaned over, sweeping a curtain of foxy red hair to the left and planting a kiss—the softest id ever seen Gold kiss—on the back of Silver's neck. Silver trembled at the touch, losing the battle against gravity and collapsing into the bed with a gasp, and pinning Falkner's hand.

"G—Go—Gonna cum—o—open up." Gold hooked his hand around the thick, throbbing member squeezing it tightly and crawling up over his lover, twisting his head to the side Gold pushed the head of his cock against his lover's lips, gasping as Silver preformed one final tongue trick.

Falkner arched then, a semi-predominant actions as he let his nails tear through my shoulders, not yet cumming but making an action as if he was going to. Tiny pinpoints of blood rose up on my skin and I grunted, digging into him harder as Gold shot a load that covered Silver's pretty face—COVERED.

"F—Fu—Fuck." Gold panted, jerking off the rest of the throbbing until his arm looked stiff and Silver whimpered for him to get off. The larger male collapse, sweaty and glistening and eyes bright with lust as Silver leaned over and rubbed his face into a pillow, spreading his legs again because he still hadn't gotten off—again I felt bad for the redhead, suffering because of Gold's selfish desires.

"S—Silver." I slurred, pulling his stiff body over to me and laying him next to Falkner. The two of us leaned over—still connected—and showered him with kisses, licks, and feverish hickeys. Gold couldn't even deny that it wasn't the sexiest thing he had ever seen—his lover being ravished by the other ravished and the ultimate ravisher.

We had Silver gasping and yelping in no time, me pulling the length of him into my mouth and letting it go as he spewed—not even seconds before Gold found his strength—and a fresh erection—and took the redhead back, intending to go for another round and finding disappointment in his leaky boyfriend.

Falkner and I were gentle and steady despite the rash alcohol in our systems, which was a loving reminder of just how much I wanted to see that expression—the way he looked when he came and the building up to that point. He had the cutest sex face, the healthiest responses to my body, and the most delicious body fluids I'd ever tasted.

That face… shit… I loved it. I loved it. I wanted it. I wanted to be IT.

Would Falkner look down upon me like that? Would he make my lips twist into a stunning scowl, eyes narrowed and wet and absolutely glorious. Surely it was just him… could I feel that way?

I glanced at Gold and Silver as we finished, me pulling out and soaking the bare chest of Falkner as his hands played in my hair, a drunk smile curling his lips up and his back arching—hips jerking as a display rose to the occasion—Arceus I loved the way that boy came. So much fluid it was truly unsettling—especially since the whole bed reeked of sex now. That was another thing I loved about Falkner; his semen smelt strong and powerful—not bad.

Together the four of us curled up, Gold and I on the outsides smothering Falkner and knocked out Silver between us, a mass of eight legs tangles together and Silver's foxy, waist length hair in a mess strewn about and sticky. It was a glorious picture, four stunning bodies together in one bed after having hot drunken sex with one another. Gold was broad and stocky, thick everywhere, Silver was lean and carefully sculpted in his hips, narrow and his ass flat (but still lovely). Falkner was middle ground, perfect, firm in the shoulders, tight in the gluts, lanky and—fuck I loved him.

Gently I kissed the bluenette on the back of the head, seeing as though the other less-sober three had already passed out and were snoring softly.

This wasn't exactly the date I had in mind for Falkner…

…..

~2:01AM~

"I'll fucking murder you!" I slammed Gold down into the bathtub, dragging the shower curtain down with us as he smacked his head sharply, hissing with newfound watery eyes. A maniacal laugh escaped his throat as I swallowed his cock whole—balls deep and gagging slightly as he pounded the back of my throat, making loud bangs against the side of the tub and accidentally hitting the nozzle in the process.

A sheer cold rain fell on our naked bodies, making us yelp and curse and scramble out, forgetting our horniness until we tumbled over the tub, knocking a towel rack off the wall and leaving a fist sized hole where it once was. I threw it at Gold's head as he tried to grab a dry towel that had fallen in order to wipe the crisp droplets from his face and shoulders.

….

3:46AM

"I—I'm cumming—

Gold slurred, tipping his head back and pouring another shot over his face—he was too drunk to even open his mouth correctly.

"You says you came seven times in the y-*hic* year of 1602. So—stahp."

"N-nap… Heeeer I goo again."

I was too weak to push his cock out of my face as he hit his head on the top of the bed (we were underneath it—but why?) and shifted to me. I curled my lip as a small dribble of white slime touched my forehead, slipping awkwardly against my ear where he shot it.

"FUCK!" I jerked, making the bed jump and Falkner moan in his sleep from above. "IN MY EAR?!"

Gold broke off into a torrent of helpless chortling.

…

~4:59AM~

Gold found himself locked bare-ass naked out on the patio because—I couldn't remember why—and it wasn't until he started crying because his perky balls had shriveled in the brisk air that I let him back in.

"I—I'm sorry." I huffed, feeling as if I had just run a marathon while Silver and Falkner snored peacefully, cuddling with one another. "G—Gold I love you man."

"Me too." Gold, the piss pot himself, agreed. "I'm th—the sexiest man alive."

I nodded, too far gone to salvage anything, and pressed a limp kiss on his mouth. "Fuck'n hate you."

"Mnn… Me too." He agreed before dropping to the floor unconscious.


	63. Chapter 63

~Falkner~

"I—I just—phew… I couldn't—Stay there any longer." I panted, jogging sluggishly next to Silver as he pulled his messy long hair up into a ponytail.

"I can't believe—they stayed up drinking all night." He agreed, shaking his head and flinching as a slight headache made his temples throb.

Last night had started out a simple dinner date, and wound up being hard wild pokemon sex between four drunk friends, and it was no surprise that Gold and Morty had woke us up early this morning retching together over the side of the bathtub. There was far more alcohol consumed last night than necessary, and more than half of it had been by those two. Since Morty was no stranger to drinking and it took quite a lot to get him even tipsy, he over did it and was regretting it now. Gold was inexperienced and stupid, Silver had been too chicken to drink a lot and admitted to me upon leaving this morning that half of last night had been him only acting to be drunk. I laughed, stating that if anyone should be drunk it should be me since I had guzzle nearly a whole bottle myself, and yet I felt second next to nothing. I vaguely remembered Morty telling me that my father had been a drinker before he passed (though I had never seen it with my own eyes) and I couldn't help but think things like that ran in our blood—like bird training. The sad and helpful truth was, was that I was just a heavyweight—even more so than Morty.

"I—I can't believe they ripped the shower curtain o—off." I put my hands behind my hand as I jogged, trying to make the remaning buzz go through my system faster. Despite my father never having drank in front of me before, he used to point at people he'd see with paper bags on the streets and say that the best way to cure a hangover was to work it off (of course he answer to everything was hard work) and I believed him. Sweating was one way to release toxins out of your body, and drinking a lot of water was another; running merely got your blood moving so that your body wasn't sitting stagnant. I preferred this way to get over last night far more than puking my guts out.

"And the towel rack!" Silver rolled his eyes, reaching out to press the treadmill arrow down a notch. He had puffy bags under his eyes, showing that even he wasn't feeling his fullest (even if he said it was the start of a cold and not him hungover).

"I think I-I heard Morty say he would pay for it—he better at least." I murmured, glancing over at the timer on the wall. We'd been at this for a half hour, which wasn't as long as I usually ran, but good enough to get our blood moving. I reached out swiftly and plucked the cord from the magnetic center, letting the machine jerk and lull to a stop. Silver caught the time as well and pulled his own magnet, looking happy to be done.

"We smell awful." Silver flinched as I walked by him, legs wobbly.

"Of course we do, Gold and Morty ruined the bathroom…" I sighed. "We still have so much alcohol on us…"

"We smell like we got laid." Silver sniffed at a strand of his hair, making a face. "Ok that is NOT Gold's…"

I chuckled softly. "I'd smell you but honestly… just… no.—Sorry Silv."

"You sniff my back I sniff yours." Silver shrugged. "So I won't smell you either."

"Deal… let's just use the gym showers."

"They don't even have soaps…"

I sighed. "I know… and no shampoo."

"Conditioner…" Silver whined. "My hair is going to be so tangled…"

I slowed, a low moan rising in my throat. "What time is it? I have birds to feed and everything… now that I think about it—let's just go back to my house, Morty and Gold can figure out what to do with themselves."

Silver laughed, shaking his head in mock disappointment "Sometimes I wonder if you are as nice as you seem… just going to leave your boyfriend like that."

"Hey! He got himself drunk, he can deal."

Silver snickered. "Gold is there too... It's not like he will die alone."

I smacked Silver lightly. "He's not going to die, he's just hungover."

My redheaded friend rolled his eyes at me. "Right, I know—let's go."

…

"Are you very disappointed in me Mama Bird…?" I sighed, sitting on the feedbox in a pair of clean sweats, stroking Lego in my lap as she sang cheerfully. "I—I'm sorry…"

The motherly Pidgeot turned her head away, glaring crossly. She was overwhelmed with my appearance when I came back with Silver, thinking that I had been seriously ill if not worse, and especially upset over the bruises and angry hickeys all down my chest and sides and back. Upon looking in the mirror I found that I really did look like a train wreck, and decided that it would be better to just admit defeat than to try and explain. Mama Bird was having none of it anyways, and if she had the grounds to—well—ground me, I was positive she would.

"He—oh… Falk?" Silver asked, peeking around my sliding glass door with my hairbrush in his hand. I could see there was a mass of fiery tangled gnarled through the bristles. "Can you help me?"

I looked back at Mama Bird with a defeated sigh, reaching out to nuzzle her gently before getting up and walking towards Silver, whose face was twisted into a frown.

"I can't get through the knot in the back of my hair." He handed me the brush.

"I'm not touching your hair unless you swear it's clean." I laughed, jokingly as Lego hopped around my shoulders, tweeting and singing her usual happy tune until she saw Pride descend from the skies and swoop down upon the small pond, plucking a rather large magikarp from the algae green water. She piped off after him, like a love bird at its fullest.

"Trust me I scrubbed it." Silver cringed, fighting a yawn. "It's just so long now I can't reach everything."

I smiled, gesturing for him to turn around. "Yeah but its—you." I murmured with a faint blush touching my cheeks.

"Gold loves my hair too much… he would probably cry if I cut it." Silver said as I started at the knot in the middle of his back.

"Even just a trim?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. Why isn't Morty picky about that kind of stuff?"

"Nahh. He's just irrationally horny."

Silver grew hot beneath me, laughing softly as I swept the now sleek wave of damp wine colored hair across his back. He murmured thanks while following me to my bedroom, where I pulled the clump of his hair out of my brush and threw it away before finally flopping down on my bed.

"I'm not going to lie…" Silver began, crawling in up towards my pillows and going limp. "Morty wasn't exactly… unpleasant last night."

I frowned. "Gold never really touched me… I think he was too busy either trying to have you or trying to own Morty."

"Do you remember everything completely?"

I nodded with a blush, seeming to remember that my father was still around somewhere, listening to this conversation and probably ripping his hair out at the moment. "Every single moment." I whispered. "I don't know why alcohol doesn't affect me…"

Silver scoffed. "Be happy… im such a lightweight… all I remember was Gold— when he put it in me the first time… and I remember Morty kissing my throat, a—and I remember you—did you?"

I shook my head, staring at my ceiling fan. "I was about to put it in you, but I stopped because Morty like—threw you across the bed."

Silver squirmed under my blanket, yawing expertly. "I can't believe you almost took my virginity."

"It's not like Gold hasn't taken it six hundred times already! And you admitted you were acting some of the time, how can you say you don't remember or that you can't believe me?" I laughed. "You're at fault, you were sober."

He disagreed sordidly. "I was drunk too; I just acted more drunk when I had to."

"Ha!"

"Yeah like when you and Morty tried to double up on me…"

"You loved it."

"No way, you're bony ass hips were digging into me." Silver curled up in a ball, determined to change the subject. "Ugh… Falkner I still feel gross, but not because I'm sore or dirty… or hungover… I feel like there's something inside me."

"Gold's baby." I snorted.

"What?" he jerked upwards, hands flying to his stomach in shock.

"Uhh… no Silv, you need a vagina to get pregnant." I gagged on the word, trying not to laugh.

"A what?"

"Oh… my Arceus." I held back a laugh. "I—I'll have Morty explain it to you later."

"So I'm not pregnant?"

"No Silv, you're not." I huffed, pushing myself up and feeling just how achy my body really was. My hips hurt, my shoulders were stiff, and my neck desperately needed to crack (even though it refused). Groaning softly I forced myself across the room to my dresser where Zephyr's pokeball was sitting. He was left here yesterday when Morty and I set out for our date, and I knew he would be pissed when I let him out—considering it had been over eight hours since I last let him out. I took a deep breath, staring at the blue and white ball with the engraved Z on the front.

"I'm making pancakes." I declared, knowing it would ease the friction between me and Zephyr—Mama Bird would be pleased to see me doing something for my "little brother" as well. "Do you want some?"

"Who eats pancakes at eleven?" Silver asked sarcastically.

"Who gets back into bed at eleven?" I challenged.

"Mmnph… ok then sure. I want blueberry though; teaspoon of butter and two teaspoons of syru—

"Haha, hilarious." I rolled my eyes as he grinned up at me from MY bed, flipping ME off as I shuffled out to the kitchen.

…

A faint knock sounded on my door as I lay curled up on the couch, warm and dozing on an off with Zephyr in my lap, who snored softly and happy with the abundance of food I had given him. If I kept screwing up like this he would soon become even more obese and round do to my extensive feeding to make up for it. I was guilty as ever, letting the truth sink in about the fact that I had been neglecting my birds ever so slightly since Morty and I got back together. I hadn't even noticed until now…

Sitting like that for a long time was probably the most calm I had in a while, and it was no wonder as to why I could suddenly hear the bootprints and smell musky cologne around me, making me shiver because my father would be so disappointed. He would be yelling at me if he were here right now—and surely his ghost was already. The stagnant old trainer would be raging over my preference to get drunk and have gay foursomes opposed to staying home and training my birds.

But I couldn't help it… I just… I was so happy to be back together with Morty, and I was so relieved that he would be keeping his gym now (despite my guilt for Chuck dying and me not feeling anything). It was all I had in me not to run away with Morty and live happily ever after now that we were so happy—except I loved those birds. I loved them with all my heart as well as Morty, and even though the few and far between nights we spent alone, actually sleeping in different towns had gotten very painful, I still felt obligated to take this sanctuary into my hands and make it the best it could be—and always would be. This was tradition, and tradition would always fall in the shadows of Violet City, so long as my father remained a ghost—so long as I remained alive.

I stumbled upon myself thinking this early afternoon, wondering what would become of the sanctuary after I passed away. Of course that wouldn't be for a long time, but I still had to wonder. I couldn't deny it anymore, nor did I want to deny that I was gay, but that still put a bad taste in my mouth when I thought of the tradition that lay in my roots. My father's grandfather trainer birds and I was suddenly now stopping the fifth generation from ever starting.

I had never given much thought to the way I would grow up to live, and even though I was only eighteen I felt as if my life should be taking off now—into the offspring of new life. Curled up on my couch with Zephyr in my lap I realized that I would never have kids—something I had always assumed I would have. Hell, I had never even imagined the wife I would have, and I had imagined at some point the dark navy haired children that would carry my bloodline further—that would be no longer. I took a deep breath, hating that I was too ignorant to believe that blood didn't matter. My whole world revolved around blood.

I daydreamed lazily, sadly about the children that Morty and I could have had (if one of us were female). Blond or bluenettes with aqua-violet eyes, narrow chins and strong cheek bones, and a dashing smile. I imagined a girl being as stubborn and sarcastic as her father, and a boy as dedicated and mislead as his—other father? At that I had to admit it sounded strange, and with a sad grunt I came to terms with the fact that I would never be a father because I would never let Morty go again; I loved him far too much. Besides… Morty would never wants kids anyways… he was too selfish.

A faint knock disrupted my thought process, making me jump and Zephyr fly, hurdling onto the floor in shock and rolling once before puffing up and hissing in annoyance. I looked at the clock, surprised to find that Morty had made it out of that hotel room by only two in the afternoon. I would have bet he would be there all day, but was happy none the less. A stupid helpless smile touched my lips as I got up and went to the front door, unlocking it swiftly and opening.

"Hey Mo— Lance?" I stepped back in disappointment, seeing the broad and tall and ultra-concerned looking dragon trainer on my porch.

"Is Morty here?" He asked. "I went to his house first but he wasn't home…"

"Uhh… no he's not here." I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.

"Where is he? It's important…"

I laughed nervously, looking away. "He… may or may not be hungover on a hotel bathroom floor right now… My phone got ruined at the lighthouse so I haven't talked to him since earlier..."

The dragon trainer turned his face up with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and then opening his mouth to say something along the lines of "tell him that I said—

"Who is it Falk?" Silver's content, muted voice came from the hallway entering the living room. He teetered over slowly, his bare chest looking cold as a later winter wind blew in from my porch. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a couple tendrils from their places and stretching. He looked all around better than before.

"A—Are you two-?" Lance blinked in shock, oblivious to our orgy last night and assuming that I was openly cheating on Morty.

"Eew." I shook my head, scoffing. "With Silver? Who likes redheads anyways?"

Silver pinched the back of my thigh hard as he heard the sarcastic remark. "Gold and Morty are hungover, they were drinking all night so we just decided to hang out."

Lance nodded, though he didn't look convinced seeing as though we both were half dressed and sporting matching bedroom eyes—not to mention Silver wore my sweats because his were in the wash.

"Why are you looking for Morty?" I asked, rubbing my thigh with a twisted scowl.

"I—It's nothing."

"Seriously?"

Lance sighed. "I'm not going to say anything without talking directly to him first… but let's just say it's fairly important and he needs to talk with me ASAP, the second he is sober again."

I glared in concern, perching my lips tightly as my eyebrows knitted together. "I'll pass the word onto him…"

"Thanks Falkner—oh! And Silver, I was meaning to get the word out to you and Gold… there is some suspicious activity in Goldenrod right now… Team Rocket sightings and I guess the radio tower has been targeted… though no one knows why and they keep ordering team Rocket out, it's not a good sign…"

"Oh no, no no no no no!" Silver suddenly pushed forward, jabbing a finger into the dragon trainer's chest. "I'm not telling Gold anything like that! He could have died at the lighthouse as it is."

Lance grit his teeth in frustration. "Silver please, this region needs its strongest trainers to defend i—

"And what about its champion?" The redhead argued. "Why don't you get your ass down there yourself?"

"How about Whitney?" I suggested, eyeing the two carefully. "Its her city, she shpuld be the first one to investigate this."

Lance nodded in agreement. "There is only so much she can do alone…"

"I'm not telling Gold." Silver crossed his arms stubbornly. "I'm not letting him get into more trouble."

"Very well…" Lance sighed. "But… I would appreciate you going."

"Me?" Silver blinked owlishly.

"You are the second top trainer… if you go then there will be no need for Gold to go at all… plus we don't know exactly what is going on, it may be a misunderstanding."

"It's team Rocket." I challenged. "They are never a misunderstanding—and what about me? Of course I would go if you asked." I wasn't going to lie, Lance asking Silver to protect the region and not me really put a bad taste in my mouth—did he favor the redhead? I glared, not wanting to sound snide but knowing that Silver didn't have the heart to get out there and fight for what is right simply because it was right. I on the other hand… that was what I was all about!

"Falkner I don't ask you for things like this because I am your champion, Sorry to say but I EXPECT you to do things like this."

I snorted, thinking that for the first time Lance actually fit Morty's nickname for him: Mr. Kiss my ass/suck my dick. He was on edge today, which made him come off as cross rather than his usual patient disposition, and it disturbed me to know that needing to talk to Morty seemed to be the root of it all. What could he possibly have to say to the gym leader? Strangely enough I felt a lightning bolt of defense spring though me. If it concerned Morty it concerned me, and if it concerned me I felt I had the right no know.

"Falkner—no." Silver turned and placed a hand on my wrist, his metallic eyes glimmering in fear. "I—I don't want you to."

I brushed his hair back with a faint sigh, shaking my head. "It's part of the job Silv…"

He slumped over, pressing his face into my shoulder with a groan.

"When do you want me to get there Lance?" I asked, patting the back of Silver's head gently.

"You don't have to rush… it's more important to get Morty to me quickly."

"What the hell do you want with him?" I muttered as Silver pulled away, frowning greatly at the thought of his lover and his best friend charging off headfirst into battle again—which was irrational of course, considering we didn't even know what Team Rocket was doing.

"Falkner it's private." Lance sighed, turning to leave with a swirl of his cape. "Just send him my way."

I glared as he walked away from me, glancing over my shoulder to where a very distraught pidgey sat behind my legs. He was scowling big time, his narrow beady eyes turned towards Lance.

"Go ahead." I sniffed, holding the door open wider and stepping aside. Zephyr took this as confirmation and heaved himself with great effort into the air, flapping his small wings harshly and rising to Lance's level as the dragon champ walked away.

Silver snorted softly as my unruly bird tried to make a nest out of Lance's awkward strawberry hair.

"Little shit comes in handy." I murmured.

"Falkner…"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want you to go…"

I sighed lightly, watching Lance try and fend Zephyr off but failing miserably. "I have to…"

"I know…" the redhead whispered. "I—I'm going with you though…"

"You don't have to."

"Yeah… well… It's better than you going alone or worse—Gold going alone…"

I turned lovingly to the redheaded trainer, feeling an internal spark of friendship and maybe a tiny, tiny little static bolt of the passion from last night. A soft moan rose in my throat as I pulled him into a hug, having nothing else to say but knowing that Silver needed more reassurance than anyone else—and I found that I truly liked taking care of him when Gold couldn't.

"We won't do anything until I know what Lance wants with Morty… how about that?" I suggested, pulling away from my best friend and squeezing his shoulder tightly. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you want too."

He nodded, glossy eyed and scared at the upcoming event that would take place in Goldenrod. I tried to smile encouragingly, only it turned out a little strained as I walked back towards the kitchen, intending to do dishes to take my mind off of this whole thing.

"Thanks Falkner…" Silver whispered after me. "I don't know what I would do without you…"


	64. Chapter 64

~Morty~

Well last night was one hell of a night, but I had to admit, I couldn't say I wasn't regretting it. Mostly because my hangover had been so horrible that Falkner had actually _left_ and showed no sign of coming back with the fluffy redhead, Silver. I didn't understand how they could just up and leave (or how they were even remotely feeling ok), but I knew that this was my price to pay, so I endured it solemnly, enjoying the way the dirty hotel room floor felt in comparison to the soiled and truly destroyed queen size bed.

This morning had been hell. Pure, utter, hell. Gold and I were in a chain link of hurling our guts out for two hours, and even after we had nothing else so hurl, we dry heaved until our muscles ached and trembled and really we just wanted to die. It was utter destruction in the hotel room, and took a good four hours to wear off.

We wound up lying on the balcony with the extra sheets and comforter from the room closet, wrapped up in the material because we dreaded putting out horrendous smelling clothes back on. We had only just managed to take a shower, and now damp and cold we flopped over one another in a lounge chair, grunting idly when we would try and move or adjust positions. Gold was terrible at keeping himself still, and I was irritated because Falkner didn't have a phone anymore and I couldn't call him—I made a mental note to go out and buy him one.

Gold and I lay sprawled naked in the sheets uncaringly as young straight couples walked hand in hand by our room, casting us repulsed glances and muttering—it wasn't as if we were showing our junk (fuck the sheets were see-through). Even so, it was no one's business anyways, just a gym leader and a hot arrogant stud trying to beat me in a thumb war while lying all over me.

Our hands had grappled together for a moment, trying to adjust each other because we really didn't want to be near each other (sort of), and that wound up in the thumb war of the century, with me yanking on his awkward fringe that slanted in front of one of his eyes, and him twisting my nipple while the sheets slipped away from us and poor pedestrians covered their eyes, gasping.

Gold leaned in and snapped at my ear, gripping it and biting hard until I yelped, jabbing my thumb into his side and tossing him overboard until we both landed on the cement patio. We were electrocuted with cold, but refusing to release each other's thumbs as they flicked back and forth, trying to pin one another, mimicking the sex we hadn't had yet.

"Stubborn bastard." I snarled, shaking him off of my ear and shoving my forehead to his to push him back. Our eyes pierced one another as we rolled together, yanking the comforter and sheets down and flipping them over with us until we were in a sort of wrap.

"OW!" Gold yelped as I plucked out a pinch of his soot colored pubes. My thumb pushed down so hard on his it shook.

"One." I pulled my opposite hand up, dropping the few hairs on his chest. "Two…" the boy thrashed beneath me, determined to get his thumb out before I reached three.

"Thr—

"Morty!" I sudden, sharp voice jolted us apart, Gold shaking me off and yanking the blanket from around me to cover himself. I leaned over, straddling his stomach as he was pinned beneath me, my back to the one and only Mr. Kiss my ass or feel my wrath. I snorted, puckering my lips slightly as the dragon trainer stared in horror at the sloppy scene before him.

"You're going to get fined for indecency in public!" Lance slapped a hand over his face in despair. "Where are your clothes!?"

I smiled wickedly, glancing at Gold and then back to the dragon master. "I'm pretty sure they are still hung over the lamp…"

Lance shook his head as Gold grunted; throwing me off of him and flashing his heavy sac and limp dick at Morty as he uncaringly threw the sheets around me. "I was about to win…" he grumbled, heading for inside the hotel room. I watched to make sure he didn't lock me out like I had done to him last night.

"Morty…" Lance shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You need to get dressed… I—I have something I need to talk to you about."

I sighed heavily, puffing out my cheeks in exaggeration. "What now?" Last we had discussed, I wasn't do to go inspect Chuck's death until the real inspectors were finished. If this was about that then Lance should have more common sense to find me at some high class yet raunchy hotel to tell me. He could have called—I wouldn't have liked it, but I would have answered.

"It's important Morty." Lance couldn't look at me as he spoke. "I—I need to bring you in for—fuck Morty! Go put some clothes on!"

I glared. "Bring me where and for what?"

"We'll discuss this at the League… but for now… just… get ready to go."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Lance opened his mouth fiercely, a sharp tone that stuck like a barb in the pit of my stomach.

"That's an order!"

"But why?!"

Lance snarled icily from beyond the balcony ledge. "You're a suspect for Chuck's murder Morty… Get dressed… NOW!"

….

….

WHAT?

I wasn't even sure what to think as he spoke those words to me, looking down as I tried to pick myself up forgetting the sheets and just standing completely stark naked, untouched by the emotions held behind the sudden rush of hate—there was fear, pain, distrust; all those emotions I felt back before Falkner came around to save me.

"You—you're fucking kidding me?" I gaped.

"No—Morty its just—

"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!" I jolted forward, aiming to punch the dragon trainer but being restrained by a very strong and sudden pair of arms around me. Gold had returned in his boxers and was now holding me back and anger vibrated through my veins, chugging like a freight train and violent enough to make even the champion of Johto flinch.

"Morty! Man calm down!" Gold insisted, hauling me back.

"YOU FUCKING ACCUSE ME OF MURDER?" I clenched my fists up together. "DO YOU KNJOW WHO I AM? DO YOU REALIZE HOW MANY GHOSTS I SEE ON A REGUALR BASIS? HOW MANY FUCKING LIVES I DEAL WITH? HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME?! HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU EVEN THINK THAT I WOULD—I—I CANT EVEN—I SEE GHOSTS—I—I—

Nothing would make sense in his head though. Lance didn't see the morbid, abused spirits of the afterworld like I did. He hadnt the ability to see just how much pain those lost phantoms carried with them, repeating day after day after day watching the living go by them without anything. They could see the world passing them by, leaving them behind and they could do NOTHING about it. Ghosts watched their families and their friends grow without them, never able to state their opinion, never able to be there for their previous lovers—and Arceus forbid watching their lovers fall in love over again. I'd seen every kind of relationship between ghosts to humans (and the only thing they all had in common was pain). Being a ghost was something I wouldn't damn on even the most pathetic of all scourges. I would never let someone suffer that kind of pain, especially now since I knew what it would be like to lose… all that.

I couldn't believe myself, naked and utterly pissed and ever so slightly hung over looking the champion in the face while tears—fucking tears misted in my eyes as I pictured the imagine in my head that had been haunting me since the night at the lighthouse.

Falkner as a ghost, cold and hollow and untouchable on the shoreline. Even moment that he would watch me go by and I would watch him and we would never be able to feel each other. We would never lay our hands upon each other's skin and know that we were together. I would suffer an agony far worse than even the lowest depths of hell because watching him—my Sweetheart, the only person that I could ever love—die and be transformed into something as cruel as a ghost. It just… I couldn't handle it.

"Shit Morty…" Gold took a step back, though holding my shoulder tightly with one hand to restrain me from harming the speechless dragon champion. He had never seen me like this before—no one had. I actually surprised myself I was so distraught. For the first time in a very, very long time I felt betrayed, hurt and picked on because of all things this—THIS was a subject that I never thought I would be questioned on. I was no murderer…

I may be angry and hostile and hard to please but I was no murderer…

"Morty… I'm sorry; it's just a precaution…'

"FUCK YOU!" I flipped him off, scrubbing the moisture from my eyes and turning back to go into the hotel room and find my clothes.

"Morty I need your cooperation!" he nearly begged, yelling past Gold into the dark musky room. The younger teen trainer followed me, putting aside our previous quarrels and rubbing the back of my neck harshly as I scrambled into the unclean pair of boxers that lay strewn across the tableside.

"You're going?" Gold stroked my shoulder roughly and I nodded, knowing that running away from this was no answer or solution. Besides—I was innocent and couldn't be proven guilty, there was nothing to run from. I let my brief emotions pass before nodding.

"Will you tell Falkner?" I asked quietly, my head throbbing.

Gold nodded. "I'll go right now."

"Thanks." I ran a hand through my messy hair as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a belt that didn't belong to me. Falkner or Silver probably left it here on accident.

"No problem…" Gold pulled me into a tight bro-hug before releasing me. "This will all blow over in no time. Don't worry."

I could only hope he was right… so why did I have this horrible stinging in my heart?

"You're not so terrible." I commented, unsure of what to say as Gold flitted about me in concern. "When you aren't being stubborn."

Gold snorted softly, rolling his eyes but not disagreeing as Lance called again from out on the patio. I turned and glared at him, pushing my lips into a tight line as he waved at me to hurry up. It was ignored however, as I leaned forward and kissed Gold roughly between the eyes, reaching out with one hand and sliding my thumb forward to push his down in the same moment.

"Three." I grunted, unamused as he butted me away from him, shaking his head.

"Doesn't count." Gold grumbled as I walked back out the hotel room patio, steering clear of my anger so that I wouldn't actually become a murderer (Lance being my victim).


	65. Chapter 65

~Falkner~

There really was no harm in what Team Rocket was doing here… just sending out numerous toxic radio waves that made wild pokemon freak the fuck out and try to chew their own ballsacks off. Yep… nothing at all.

"Don't stop!" I panted, running ahead—thankful for the practice I had given myself running lately—and leaving a desperate clutching Silver behind while Gold tore at him, yanking and pulling the slender wrist of the redhead until he was nearly flailing about, trying to reach the next hallway as sparks shot up, tiny BB gun pellets sticking to the backs of our heels and making it a deathly hall to slip in. Gold was by far the best off, having come with Team Rocket's shoes on and having Silver trip him of them, now he was not in danger of slipping on the metal round objects, but more or less he was cursing every five seconds for stepping on one.

"We have to make that door!" I yelled, watching the elevator door begin to close with two grunts on the inside, clicking the shut button frantically. "Jake be careful!" I yelled as my bird swooped in before me, vanishing behind the large silver doors and erupting the box into a howling mess of pain. I slid, gasping as the doors closed and I ran right into them, not a moment before they started moving up on the inside.

"Jake!" I yelled, knowing that his intentions were good but he wasn't thinking clearly enough to consider this option. He was now trapped with two plasma members that had guns—hopefully just BB guns there weren't fatal, but still! Jake had problems thinking for himself as it was, he was mellow and afaid and very easily frightened—this was the wrong situation for him to be in.

"Ty!" Gold snapped at his pokemon who was having a terribly hard time taking him seriously do to the fact that he was in his underwear. Silver had some serious Team Rocket issues, I knew that, but even this was a little ridiculous. Gold needed to put some fucking clothes on!

The larger pokemon skidded to a halt, squabbling like a huge puppy and flicking his ears back as Gold reached out to swat him across the head for falling behind. We all reverted around, unable to find a stairway to take up us. There was nothing but that elevator door now—shit.

"JAKE!" I wailed, slipping to my knees as his cries faded from the elevator moving up higher and higher—at least five stories. I grit my teeth, begging that he knew what he was doing. If there was ever a time our training was necessary it was now.

Silver reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, panting heavily from the run with sweat dripping down his face. We had been chasing those grunts because they seemed to hold a parcel with a more important item—a type of walky-talky thing that was leading them to the main source of power which would lead us to Proton, who seemed to be controlling all this.

"Uh—guys…" Gold bit his lower lip, a shiver rolling up his broad muscles back as he turned to see the direction we had come in, there was now standing a very tall and lean teal haired man with the same item in his hands. He was in black like the grunts, but somehow made it look better than then, with his—dare I say—utterly firm buttocks and skinny hips. It looked as if the whole outfit had been designed around him to begin with, and I wasn't ashamed to say that it pissed me off.

"Well hello… my band of feverish rouges…" Proton crooned, running a hand through his ever soft and bumptious hair. "This is… quite the surprise."

His voice was so melodic it actually hurt. Though he sang a song of evil when he spoke, it was utterly beautiful, what with a crisp foreign accent that rolled when he laughed, and a soft whisper of an undertone that made me curl my lip. He looked completely feminine, the kind of gay guy you see on underwear commercials that made gay guys like me look bad. He was a stereotype, a cookie cut, and yet… with such authority…

He raised his perfectly manicured hand and pointed at me. "Leader Falkner… specializes in bird pokemon training, has a sanctuary in Violet City, lost his father almost a year ago to illness… you have quite the backstory I assume? You were an only child because your mother died giving birth to you and your father never found love again."

I flinched. The way he said that was as if my mother passing was my fault… and while I had come to terms with the fact that it wasn't a long time ago, it still stung like a beedrill to know Proton had researched my family enough to know this about me. I ground my teeth together, pushing up off the floor and squaring off to the man as he ignored me and moved on, pointing at Silver.

"Rocket's son… boy do you realize what kind of title that is? Haven't you the slightest clue how much I would give to be able to say I was the great Giovanni's son?"

Silver bared his teeth, sharp and fearful like an animal that was cornered. "That name is a disgrace—I—I can't wait to get rid of it!"

"Fuck you Proton, you're just a bitter middle aged man that hasn't gotten laid EVER." Gold snorted. "Stop talking like you're the man and fight me."

"Temper…temper." Proton clicked his tongue. "Are you not Gold Hibiki? The hot rookie trainer that…" he trailed off into a fit of high pitched giggling. "Has never lost a battle? Why are you so eager to lose?"

Gold rippled like a mighty cat on the prowl, his muscles all but shown and revealing his stunning body as he and Typhlosion stepped forward. The huge bear-like pokemon rose to its hind feet, standing taller than Gold and almost as tall as Silver's Feraligatr. Proton was amused.

"What a sexy thing…" his whispered. "May I ask why you battle in your undies?"

Gold groaned inwardly, thoroughly pissed by now that everyone who had approached us for a battle had asked him—or tried to ask—the same question. "Because my massive cock will stun you." Gold grinned evilly.

"Oh please let it." The neat black uniform looked rumpled around Proton's crotch area as the Rocket commander traced his own lips with his narrow feminine finger. "I'll make you a deal honey booboo…"

Silver was fuming next to me, a mixture of obsession and protection in his mercury gaze. "Feraligatr!" He—what the hell—literally stomped his foot down as if he were throwing a tantrum. Only Silver would throw a tantrum far more vicious than anyone else before him. Proton broke off into a fit of laughter as the mighty beast stepped forward, scales leaping at the lowlight and reflecting like bubbles.

"Your… mate?" Proton gestured to Gold, asking Silver the question of a lifetime. "Did you pay? Was it Giovanni's money?"

Silver snarled but had no words to announce his hate for this man. "Feraligatr…"

In my hand now I had a pokeball swelling, ready to leap into battle as Pride could sense the thickening air of this place. I knew though that I was not as great a battler as Gold, and that they would be completely fine without me, however I felt the need to stand beside them regardless of my position. I may just be a rookie gym leader but I was no man to push around.

Pride, Feraligatr, and Typhlosion bore the eyes of warriors as they rose to the occasion, throwing back their heads and wailing into a thirty battle cry. Proton groped at the sight, sucking our energy through the movements of hot passionate strokes on his body—as if they would distract us. He snapped his fingers at one point, and with dismay arose his team from the shadows—large demonish pokemon that resembled Morty's Gengar. There were at least twenty of them as well, long lean patches of darkness with glistening jewel eyes. The lights fizzled and flickered and I suddenly found myself under the harsh howling wails, laughs, and snarls. Proton stood in the depths, kneading his tented crotch as Gold commanded his warrior forward. Typhlosion who could go from feral to sweet-as-can-be in a heartbeat, almost in the same sexual fashion Silver went from angry to scared.

Proton bit his lower lip, containing a grin as his lust for battle—his lust for blood ignited the hormones amongst his muscles and made him twitch and curse lovingly. He let out a catcall for mercy as the battle erupted and grunts started to pour in from the windows (how: I had no clue). Glass popped and shook and from above I could hear a muted baying. The floor above us trembled and heaved with effort, bulging at the airvent above Silver.

"Watch out!" I lurched forward as the thing snapped open and a huge metal tube came swinging down like a pendulum, releasing not only a foul smell of dust and mold, but the lifeless corpse of a pokemon that had been bound and gagged. Silver and I hit the ground skidding not a moment too soon before the fresh death could roll on us. I gasped as the enormous Miltank spilled over, blood dripping from its stomach as something thrashed about inside of it.

"SHIT!" Silver jerked, horrified at the bloody sight.

"NO!" from above in the small piece of airvent still hanging knelt Whitney, the normal gym leader of this town who's pokemon had just fallen to its death—or maybe it was dead before, judging by the chicken wire that tied its mouth shut.

Proton shook with laughter, his getting off on all of this misery a lovely excuse to touch himself. I swore I would never look at sex the same way again—he made it so iniquitous. It was not the rough lust that Gold had for Morty, or the gentle touches between me and Silver, or the pure loving ecstasy I had felt with Morty alone. Proton touched himself as if he were the only man that could ever live up to his expectations, and we were all just his morbid porno.

Whitney wailed from above, hunched over and sobbing because there was simply no way down to reach her dead pokemon and the life it would never bear inside of it. I realized with a dizzying gag that Miltank had been mid-birth when she died, and Whitney could do nothing about it, because as I looked up I realized that her hands were tied around her back with the same wire that had choked her pokemon. She looked ragged and torn and with nothing but a clefairy—useless in this battle against the shadows—at her side to comfort her.

Pride screeched in dismay, not understanding the scene before him. He could see none of it—not even the shadows that I could see, and whilst Feraligatr filled the floor with water and chunks of ice, and Ty had fire whirling like a tornado, popping light bulbs and setting drapes alight, he doubled back to protect me, standing tall and taking each unseen thrust of air like a champion. I felt my head swim as the moving body—a half born pokemon—writhed about its mother's corpse, trying to break free.

Shit… I—I couldn't.

I'd never helped a pokemon give birth before, and certainly not live birth, and even more certainly not birth out of a dead mother, but this pokemon was suffering—and I couldn't just let that go. I stumbled forward onto my knees in the freezing puddles of water and shakily reached out, eyesight fuzzy as Pride deflected another unseen attack. This was perhaps the most unexpected event, and let me tell you if it weren't for the fact that I didn't want to see a pokemon die before it could actually live—I wouldn't have dared touch it. But I did… I gripped the tiny hoofed legs of a infant Miltank that was suffocating and pulled it out of its Mother's birth canal, fighting my desire to vomit the whole time. My arms were covered in repulsive black and purplish blood, staining my clothes as the "miracle" of birth lay before me. It was the most repulsive thing I had ever seen, and I fucking ripped an umbilical cord with my bare hands as all hell broke loose around me. The tiny newborn Miltank lay unmoving in shallow water as I pulled away from it, trembling as Whitney sobbed from high above.

It quieted in my head, until there was no sound at all but rather a slow motion picture going on around me. I felt lost, like I had done more harm than good in separating a mother from its child just so it could die. My knees buckled then, and amidst the blood and the water and the spitting fire and the blaring fire-alarms that I could not here—Proton groping, Whitney in hysterics, Silver fighting with one hand in Gold's the whole time, and Pride protecting me because if one of those demon pokemon with the jewel eyes got to close I would be defenseless.

I slumped over, ears ringing and head cracking against the soaked tile floor as I imagined what Morty was doing right now. He was in for questioning because someone accused him of Chuck's murder, and there was nothing I could do to contact him and even know if he was ok. Jake was trapped in an elevator with two grunts that had guns… Was my world crashing down around me or what? Would all this go to waste? Was I not quick enough to have saved the innocent Miltank's life?

Proton let out another catcall, high pitched wailing as blood shot across the room—no… not Typhlosion—and spattered him in the face. Gold howled in rage, and though I did not actually hear it I could feel it deep within my heart. Something was seriously wrong here—Gold never lost, he was our future champion. Silver caught the trainer on the way down, commanding his own partner of some attack as Gold tried to find the breath that had been taken out of him. I begged for mercy as Typhlosion caught my eyes, his eyes lolling and steam flitting up around his body as he slipped and sizzled in the water from Feraligatr. Pride abandoned me then to help the pokemon he'd already saved once before at the lighthouse. And I was glad, Ty needed to get out of the water.

There was a faint echo beyond my silent picture in my head, as blood soaked water lapped at my shoulder and I managed to push my face up just inches to see that the Miltank—the newborn—had parted its tiny pink mouth and let out a molecular bay that would have otherwise been known of as a breath—just a breath.

It was alive…


	66. Chapter 66

~Silver~

Gold was the single most stable thing in my life, and seeing him fall was perhaps the most sickening, ground shaking thing I had ever been through. I recoiled with catching him however, slowing his pace long enough so that he didn't sink to his knees completely, but rather caught himself in my arms and righted sluggishly, his dark fringe cutting his face in half as it fell slanted, sinister over his left eye, which left the right to burn solemnly for the hell that was breaking loose. Typhlosion fell, Gold fell, and I stood now alone with the herd of Sableye yipping and screeching after us, all weakened but still coming as Proton backed himself into a wall and ass-raped it from behind, jerking forward and laughing in the same bloody fashion that his eyes lolled with lust. He was far too in love with this, far too happy to see Gold in all his glory shatter—his first true loss.

"Sh—shit." Gold cursed, leaning into me, his hand shaking as he pulled out his pokeball to return the damaged and fallen Typhlosion from the watery floor it lay upon. I snagged my arm around Gold's waist, narrowly avoided a blast of air as Pride lashed out at the pokemon invisible to it—the bird was surely going mad.

Proton let out a high pitched catcall, wailing like a wild pokemon in the dead of night and moving with graceful fluid steps, his heavy crotch wetting the material of his tight pants as he came wild and hard and fast in the agony of his win—he was so sick and twisted and utterly horrific that I wanted to spit—no, I wanted his head on a silver platter before me.

"S—Silv…" Gold huffed in my ear, weak and trembly and staring down at his pokemon because he had just taken the biggest shot on his pride and now he was falling. I couldn't take seeing him like this…

"FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PRICK!" I snarled, holding Gold's face into my chest as he teetered softly, trying not to lose the fire in his eyes as I snarled. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Proton's only response was another screeching laugh, menacing and bloodcurdling.

Feraligatr, upon seething in my wrath, stopped mid attack and turned, reaching his uttermost power source—something that lie far beneath his skin—and turning, trampling through the water until his outstretched jaws were snapping at not the pokemon he fought, but the master controlling them. Proton's femur exploded under the force, the lockjaw of such a pokemon, and I stood, feeling the airvent that fell blow this way, whipping my hair back and spraying water this way as someone seemed to be controlling it from another source. I grit my teeth together, watching as the Sableye heard their master's new scream and broke off into a wild untamed rage. They leapt at my Feraligatr's hind legs, dragging it down with their sticky black claws as he death rolled with Proton, smashing the handsome face into the floor and disbanding the flesh from his leg.

Part of me felt wretched over the sight, and in all my years I had never wanted to call off an attack more—yet I couldn't because he had crushed Gold and that was something I found unforgivable. You don't let the leaders, the strength, the pure power in good be destroyed; it was just wrong.

"FERALIGATR!" I howled as the huge blue and bloody beast sank under the wave of darkness, his firm scales protecting him mostly, but leaving the softer flesh around his face to tear as he flipped Proton like a ragdoll against a wall, knocking the commander out instantly and perhaps even killing him—there was so much blood. The floor, the walls, the carpeting that failed to soak up the water, it was all a bloody mess, leaking and dripping about from the combination of Feraligatr, Typhlosion, and the Miltank that lay unmoving despite its twitching baby that lay before Falkner—who was stoned and lost in a world of havoc.

A wave erupted form the math of writhing Sableye, blasting them about with sickening thuds—one even crashed through a window—and revealing my partner again, so strong and durable, unstoppable in his rage. The tiny shadows suddenly realized then that this was no game they were playing, and once by one leaderless they began to flee, leaving the three of us and the pokemon to stare in awe at the destroyed, soggy floor.

"Y—You did it…" Gold broke then, scrubbing hand of tears across his face and yanking me around, literally off my feet as he dipped my back under the glow of the pale moonlight out a broken window. The moon howled from outside as the dark haired trainer dipped me back and pressed his perfect, taught lips to my own, knotting his finger in my hair while the ends dampened in the water. He rubbed heatedly, caressing my neck as voices from below started to sound. The floor above us and the floor below us coinciding as we all stay in silence. I didn't know whether to be relieved or distraught… but I felt something that's for sure.

Gold and I broke apart, panting as our bloodstained lips breathed salty breath into each other. I shuffled upwards then, shaking my head softly and whispered. "W—we did it."

Gold looked as if he would reject for a moment before smiling sadly and nodding, knowing that I hated taking attention like this without a damn good reason. He placed his hand in my back pocket and turned me around to be facing the navy haired bird trainer, who shook violently on his knees with his bird, Pride, rubbing his head against his back, trying to calm him. Falkner was not crying but he made a motion as if he were in hysterics like the pin haired girl from above him—far too high to jump down.

"Falkner…" I whispered, gripping Gold's hand and pulling him along with me. We stooped at his level, moving forward fluently to trap him between us. He trembled, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the truth about out victory sink in—he looked to be in pain.

"I—I—

"Shh." Gold hushed the frantic bird trainer, brushing his hair back and pulling him into his broad shape. "Come on… You're ok."

That was the biggest difference between Falkner and Gold (since they were both so heroic); Gold got over his losses and emotions quickly, replacing them with the stronger emotions while Falkner seemed to remain in shock longer. I held his cold bloody hands in my own as Gold stood cradling the trainer. Falkner looked a bit small in Gold's strong shape, but proud none the less. He squeezed my hand softly back.

"Th—thanks."

Gold and I swept in at the same time, me to place a best-friend kiss on his forehead and Gold to nuzzle his shoulder.

"It's going to be ok…"

"Pr—Pride." Falkner mumbled. "G—get Whitney."

"You ok Falk?" I asked in concern, seeing just how pale he looked under the bright lights. The navy trainer nodded slightly.

"I—I just want Morty…"

….

~Gold~

I loved Silver with all my might…

He was worth losing a battle for… because in all reality I couldn't help but admire his strength—and the immense tank of a pokemon his Feraligatr was. He had raised him right, that's for sure, and coming from a trainer that hadn't even been raised himself… it truly was something.

Silver found himself today. The gentle and often secretly scared trainer that so bravely faced each opponent, the precious baby I loved to spoil rotten, the overly jealous man that knew how to give a perfect blowjob when the mood was right… I loved everything about Silver, and to know that today he found himself—he became who he was meant to be in taking Proton's life—made my heart dance with happiness. Despite the cruel death and unexpected murder… I was so thrilled that Silver had channeled his anger for Team Rocket here and now rather than later and elsewhere.

I loved him…

Dammit I was so happy… and if I wasn't lying to myself I knew that I wouldn't take anything back. Tonight happened for a reason—whether it be to test our courage or build a stronger layer of bondage between me and the sexy redhead and the bluenette bird trainer—I didn't know… all I knew was that this was perhaps the most rewarding thing that had ever happened to me. Losing a battle was a shock of course… but even that I appreciated.

Turns out I hadn't lost at all… I had won. My heart said so.

…

~Clair~

"Bitches be shittin'! GTFO BEFORE I TOSS YOUR ASS LIKE A FUCKING FRUIT SALAD!" I snarled at a news reporter that turned their camera on Falkner AGAIN. What the fuck was wrong with these people? Couldn't they see that his internal penis of angst was about to explode? Couldn't they see that I was here to talk to them now?

I slapped the camera man, knocking his lens into his nose and making him curse and snort like only a nerd would. He sniffed up a clot of blood, moaning softly.

"Fucking look at this!" I gripped his camera and pointed it at my tits. "HEY JOHTO~ CHECK IT OUT! YOU WISH YOU HAD THESE WATERMELLO—

"CLAIR!" Lance yanked me around the waist, having just arrived on scene after the battle up in the radio tower. He pulled me into his broad chest, encasing me into his shape and forcing my eyes into his slightly yellow ones. I could see the tender purple worry splotches below them and the small crease between them that suggested he was mad and he meant it this time. His usually neatly spiked hair was astray and windblown and utterly—FML

Lance gripped the back of my hair harshly—not kindly like you normally treat a lady—and as the cameras turned back to a sulking Falkner, he pulled me up harshly, clawing the backs of my arms and smashing his ugly ass-hot-as-fucking-hell face to mine.

FML LANCE SPIT

OTL

OK

Shutting up now

Dammit he was so hot.

I wanted to murder his hard ass.

But he was so fucking hot.

Shit.

Cousin love… but it wasn't blood…

Ok really… shutting up now and kissing this bitch.

Fml.

…

~Whitney~

"I—I'm so sorry Milky…" I whispered to the bloody carcass of a pokemon—MY pokemon. My beloved Miltank that I raised from birth…

Just like this little guy…

"Fa—Falkner… let me name him after you…" I mumbled to the Violet City gym leader as he made his way through the crowd, still bloody from my pokemon, and approaching the stretcher the pokemon center had brought out to take the Miltank on. It was a horrific sight, but I knew that this was only just the beginning…

I wanted to cry but I wanted to laugh as well, because even though Milky was gone I had her baby… and it was all thanks to Falkner. I hugged the bird trainer and stifled another sob, glancing at the basket the newborn lay in.

"Whitney… it's really nothing." He whispered so solemnly to me. "You don't have to name him after me."

"Well then… you name him…" I suggested, listening to the ambulance sirens in the background while my head throbbed for some aspirin.

Falkner shook his head stiffly. "H—He has a star shaped spot on his side… name him… Nova."

"Hmm?"

"Star is a girly name… so call him Nova, like a super nova."

I smiled sadly at the overrun trainer as he stumbled away from me, desperately trying to get away from the cameras as they dwindled down to the last injured grunt in the tower. I watched the blue haired trainer go in wonder, thinking about all the things that my friend Jasmine had said about him recently.

He was not disgusting and rude and pitiful… he was actually very brave and understanding and careing… and despite it all he wasn't even my good friend. I sighed, looking up at the black starless sky and sending a final prayer to my forgotten Miltank.

_Falkner saved your baby… I'll never stop being grateful for that…_

…

~Jasmine~

Look at all of them…

Standing around in applause…

Because they defeated Team Rocket at the Radio Tower… how pathetic… They knew nothing of self preservation. They were just lucky is all. Honor had nothing to do with it. Who did Falkner even think he was? Repulsive faggot.

He should be ashamed of himself.

…..

~Morty~

I stared at the television screen in Falkner's living room, sitting quietly with Falkner's ghost father looming over my shoulder, watching the ambulances and the stretchers pull bodies away from the Goldenrod Radio tower.

I had only just not gotten out of questioning, and while Lance raced over there I knew it would only be rational to wait for Falkner at his home—the whole ordeal was already over anyways.

"He looks so sad…" I whispered to Falkner's father as the man put aside our differences for once, understanding that this was far more important than his son's homosexual desires.

_He is fine… he will get over it._

"You're such a hardass." I hissed, pushing up off the couch and turning the TV off. I couldn't bear to look at Falkner's face on the screen any longer. Unsure of myself I wandered out into the backyard of the sanctuary for some air. Walter Hayato luckily stayed inside, leaving me be.

"He acts like he's not worried at all…" I grumbled to myself, wishing that there were time for me to run to Falkner and hold him and love him—I could have been there today if it weren't for the fact that Lance had me in for fucking questioning.

Mama Bird approached me swiftly, stumbling in the grass as her landings were not as sharp as they were in her prime. She whined softly, crooning as her motherly instincts took over. She looked me in the eyes begging, wondering where her baby was.

"Hey…no…" I shook my head softly, reaching out to bring the distressed bird into me. I stroked her graying feathers around her face. I was very fond of this bird for many reasons, but none being as dominant as the fact that she accepted me and Falkner for what we were—a couple. "Falkner's fine… its ok." I hugged her ever so softly.

She pressed her face into my shoulder with a low chirp, closing her eyes and relaxing slightly. She knew that I wouldn't be here if Falkner was in any kind of danger.

"It's ok Mama Bird…" I insisted, feeling like for the first time ever she was allowing herself to be comforted rather than her comforting others. There were no other birds around either so I assumed she wasn't ashamed of her fear. It was the middle of the night and I felt bad that she had stayed up waiting and wondering for so long.

_I don't understand…_ Walter Hayato's voice came rough and misleading from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at the apparition.

"It's called fear, Walter…" I whispered.

"It's what you feel when you really care about someone…"


	67. Chapter 67

~Silver~

Gold was the single most stable thing in my life, and seeing him fall was perhaps the most sickening, ground shaking thing I had ever been through. I recoiled with catching him however, slowing his pace long enough so that he didn't sink to his knees completely, but rather caught himself in my arms and righted sluggishly, his dark fringe cutting his face in half as it fell slanted, sinister over his left eye, which left the right to burn solemnly for the hell that was breaking loose. Typhlosion fell, Gold fell, and I stood now alone with the herd of Sableye yipping and screeching after us, all weakened but still coming as Proton backed himself into a wall and ass-raped it from behind, jerking forward and laughing in the same bloody fashion that his eyes lolled with lust. He was far too in love with this, far too happy to see Gold in all his glory shatter—his first true loss.

"Sh—shit." Gold cursed, leaning into me, his hand shaking as he pulled out his pokeball to return the damaged and fallen Typhlosion from the watery floor it lay upon. I snagged my arm around Gold's waist, narrowly avoided a blast of air as Pride lashed out at the pokemon invisible to it—the bird was surely going mad.

Proton let out a high pitched catcall, wailing like a wild pokemon in the dead of night and moving with graceful fluid steps, his heavy crotch wetting the material of his tight pants as he came wild and hard and fast in the agony of his win—he was so sick and twisted and utterly horrific that I wanted to spit—no, I wanted his head on a silver platter before me.

"S—Silv…" Gold huffed in my ear, weak and trembly and staring down at his pokemon because he had just taken the biggest shot on his pride and now he was falling. I couldn't take seeing him like this…

"FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PRICK!" I snarled, holding Gold's face into my chest as he teetered softly, trying not to lose the fire in his eyes as I snarled. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Proton's only response was another screeching laugh, menacing and bloodcurdling.

Feraligatr, upon seething in my wrath, stopped mid attack and turned, reaching his uttermost power source—something that lie far beneath his skin—and turning, trampling through the water until his outstretched jaws were snapping at not the pokemon he fought, but the master controlling them. Proton's femur exploded under the force, the lockjaw of such a pokemon, and I stood, feeling the airvent that fell blow this way, whipping my hair back and spraying water this way as someone seemed to be controlling it from another source. I grit my teeth together, watching as the Sableye heard their master's new scream and broke off into a wild untamed rage. They leapt at my Feraligatr's hind legs, dragging it down with their sticky black claws as he death rolled with Proton, smashing the handsome face into the floor and disbanding the flesh from his leg.

Part of me felt wretched over the sight, and in all my years I had never wanted to call off an attack more—yet I couldn't because he had crushed Gold and that was something I found unforgivable. You don't let the leaders, the strength, the pure power in good be destroyed; it was just wrong.

"FERALIGATR!" I howled as the huge blue and bloody beast sank under the wave of darkness, his firm scales protecting him mostly, but leaving the softer flesh around his face to tear as he flipped Proton like a ragdoll against a wall, knocking the commander out instantly and perhaps even killing him—there was so much blood. The floor, the walls, the carpeting that failed to soak up the water, it was all a bloody mess, leaking and dripping about from the combination of Feraligatr, Typhlosion, and the Miltank that lay unmoving despite its twitching baby that lay before Falkner—who was stoned and lost in a world of havoc.

A wave erupted form the math of writhing Sableye, blasting them about with sickening thuds—one even crashed through a window—and revealing my partner again, so strong and durable, unstoppable in his rage. The tiny shadows suddenly realized then that this was no game they were playing, and once by one leaderless they began to flee, leaving the three of us and the pokemon to stare in awe at the destroyed, soggy floor.

"Y—You did it…" Gold broke then, scrubbing hand of tears across his face and yanking me around, literally off my feet as he dipped my back under the glow of the pale moonlight out a broken window. The moon howled from outside as the dark haired trainer dipped me back and pressed his perfect, taught lips to my own, knotting his finger in my hair while the ends dampened in the water. He rubbed heatedly, caressing my neck as voices from below started to sound. The floor above us and the floor below us coinciding as we all stay in silence. I didn't know whether to be relieved or distraught… but I felt something that's for sure.

Gold and I broke apart, panting as our bloodstained lips breathed salty breath into each other. I shuffled upwards then, shaking my head softly and whispered. "W—we did it."

Gold looked as if he would reject for a moment before smiling sadly and nodding, knowing that I hated taking attention like this without a damn good reason. He placed his hand in my back pocket and turned me around to be facing the navy haired bird trainer, who shook violently on his knees with his bird, Pride, rubbing his head against his back, trying to calm him. Falkner was not crying but he made a motion as if he were in hysterics like the pin haired girl from above him—far too high to jump down.

"Falkner…" I whispered, gripping Gold's hand and pulling him along with me. We stooped at his level, moving forward fluently to trap him between us. He trembled, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the truth about out victory sink in—he looked to be in pain.

"I—I—

"Shh." Gold hushed the frantic bird trainer, brushing his hair back and pulling him into his broad shape. "Come on… You're ok."

That was the biggest difference between Falkner and Gold (since they were both so heroic); Gold got over his losses and emotions quickly, replacing them with the stronger emotions while Falkner seemed to remain in shock longer. I held his cold bloody hands in my own as Gold stood cradling the trainer. Falkner looked a bit small in Gold's strong shape, but proud none the less. He squeezed my hand softly back.

"Th—thanks."

Gold and I swept in at the same time, me to place a best-friend kiss on his forehead and Gold to nuzzle his shoulder.

"It's going to be ok…"

"Pr—Pride." Falkner mumbled. "G—get Whitney."

"You ok Falk?" I asked in concern, seeing just how pale he looked under the bright lights. The navy trainer nodded slightly.

"I—I just want Morty…"

….

~Gold~

I loved Silver with all my might…

He was worth losing a battle for… because in all reality I couldn't help but admire his strength—and the immense tank of a pokemon his Feraligatr was. He had raised him right, that's for sure, and coming from a trainer that hadn't even been raised himself… it truly was something.

Silver found himself today. The gentle and often secretly scared trainer that so bravely faced each opponent, the precious baby I loved to spoil rotten, the overly jealous man that knew how to give a perfect blowjob when the mood was right… I loved everything about Silver, and to know that today he found himself—he became who he was meant to be in taking Proton's life—made my heart dance with happiness. Despite the cruel death and unexpected murder… I was so thrilled that Silver had channeled his anger for Team Rocket here and now rather than later and elsewhere.

I loved him…

Dammit I was so happy… and if I wasn't lying to myself I knew that I wouldn't take anything back. Tonight happened for a reason—whether it be to test our courage or build a stronger layer of bondage between me and the sexy redhead and the bluenette bird trainer—I didn't know… all I knew was that this was perhaps the most rewarding thing that had ever happened to me. Losing a battle was a shock of course… but even that I appreciated.

Turns out I hadn't lost at all… I had won. My heart said so.

…

~Clair~

"Bitches be shittin'! GTFO BEFORE I TOSS YOUR ASS LIKE A FUCKING FRUIT SALAD!" I snarled at a news reporter that turned their camera on Falkner AGAIN. What the fuck was wrong with these people? Couldn't they see that his internal penis of angst was about to explode? Couldn't they see that I was here to talk to them now?

I slapped the camera man, knocking his lens into his nose and making him curse and snort like only a nerd would. He sniffed up a clot of blood, moaning softly.

"Fucking look at this!" I gripped his camera and pointed it at my tits. "HEY JOHTO~ CHECK IT OUT! YOU WISH YOU HAD THESE WATERMELLO—

"CLAIR!" Lance yanked me around the waist, having just arrived on scene after the battle up in the radio tower. He pulled me into his broad chest, encasing me into his shape and forcing my eyes into his slightly yellow ones. I could see the tender purple worry splotches below them and the small crease between them that suggested he was mad and he meant it this time. His usually neatly spiked hair was astray and windblown and utterly—FML

Lance gripped the back of my hair harshly—not kindly like you normally treat a lady—and as the cameras turned back to a sulking Falkner, he pulled me up harshly, clawing the backs of my arms and smashing his ugly ass-hot-as-fucking-hell face to mine.

FML LANCE SPIT

OTL

OK

Shutting up now

Dammit he was so hot.

I wanted to murder his hard ass.

But he was so fucking hot.

Shit.

Cousin love… but it wasn't blood…

Ok really… shutting up now and kissing this bitch.

Fml.

…

~Whitney~

"I—I'm so sorry Milky…" I whispered to the bloody carcass of a pokemon—MY pokemon. My beloved Miltank that I raised from birth…

Just like this little guy…

"Fa—Falkner… let me name him after you…" I mumbled to the Violet City gym leader as he made his way through the crowd, still bloody from my pokemon, and approaching the stretcher the pokemon center had brought out to take the Miltank on. It was a horrific sight, but I knew that this was only just the beginning…

I wanted to cry but I wanted to laugh as well, because even though Milky was gone I had her baby… and it was all thanks to Falkner. I hugged the bird trainer and stifled another sob, glancing at the basket the newborn lay in.

"Whitney… it's really nothing." He whispered so solemnly to me. "You don't have to name him after me."

"Well then… you name him…" I suggested, listening to the ambulance sirens in the background while my head throbbed for some aspirin.

Falkner shook his head stiffly. "H—He has a star shaped spot on his side… name him… Nova."

"Hmm?"

"Star is a girly name… so call him Nova, like a super nova."

I smiled sadly at the overrun trainer as he stumbled away from me, desperately trying to get away from the cameras as they dwindled down to the last injured grunt in the tower. I watched the blue haired trainer go in wonder, thinking about all the things that my friend Jasmine had said about him recently.

He was not disgusting and rude and pitiful… he was actually very brave and understanding and careing… and despite it all he wasn't even my good friend. I sighed, looking up at the black starless sky and sending a final prayer to my forgotten Miltank.

_Falkner saved your baby… I'll never stop being grateful for that…_

…

~Jasmine~

Look at all of them…

Standing around in applause…

Because they defeated Team Rocket at the Radio Tower… how pathetic… They knew nothing of self preservation. They were just lucky is all. Honor had nothing to do with it. Who did Falkner even think he was? Repulsive faggot.

He should be ashamed of himself.

…..

~Morty~

I stared at the television screen in Falkner's living room, sitting quietly with Falkner's ghost father looming over my shoulder, watching the ambulances and the stretchers pull bodies away from the Goldenrod Radio tower.

I had only just not gotten out of questioning, and while Lance raced over there I knew it would only be rational to wait for Falkner at his home—the whole ordeal was already over anyways.

"He looks so sad…" I whispered to Falkner's father as the man put aside our differences for once, understanding that this was far more important than his son's homosexual desires.

_He is fine… he will get over it._

"You're such a hardass." I hissed, pushing up off the couch and turning the TV off. I couldn't bear to look at Falkner's face on the screen any longer. Unsure of myself I wandered out into the backyard of the sanctuary for some air. Walter Hayato luckily stayed inside, leaving me be.

"He acts like he's not worried at all…" I grumbled to myself, wishing that there were time for me to run to Falkner and hold him and love him—I could have been there today if it weren't for the fact that Lance had me in for fucking questioning.

Mama Bird approached me swiftly, stumbling in the grass as her landings were not as sharp as they were in her prime. She whined softly, crooning as her motherly instincts took over. She looked me in the eyes begging, wondering where her baby was.

"Hey…no…" I shook my head softly, reaching out to bring the distressed bird into me. I stroked her graying feathers around her face. I was very fond of this bird for many reasons, but none being as dominant as the fact that she accepted me and Falkner for what we were—a couple. "Falkner's fine… its ok." I hugged her ever so softly.

She pressed her face into my shoulder with a low chirp, closing her eyes and relaxing slightly. She knew that I wouldn't be here if Falkner was in any kind of danger.

"It's ok Mama Bird…" I insisted, feeling like for the first time ever she was allowing herself to be comforted rather than her comforting others. There were no other birds around either so I assumed she wasn't ashamed of her fear. It was the middle of the night and I felt bad that she had stayed up waiting and wondering for so long.

_I don't understand…_ Walter Hayato's voice came rough and misleading from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at the apparition.

"It's called fear, Walter…" I whispered.

"It's what you feel when you really care about someone…"


	68. Chapter 68

~Falkner~

I stumbled home about six in the morning, after a night of miserable fighting and dead bloody bodies and radio waves scorching the minds of wild pokemon across the city. I was exhausted; I was bruised and bloody—be it mine or someone else's blood—and my poor birds were completely knocked out. I had just dropped Pride and Jake off at the pokemon center, because their conditions were far too bad for me to handle myself, and now I was meagerly reaching a phone intending to call Morty and tell him to get his ass over here for some serious cuddle time before I go crazy and lose my fucking mind. I didn't even let Zephyr out of his pokeball because there was no one else in the world I wanted right now but Morty.

Gold, Silver, and I had beaten Team Rocket today and taken back the Radio Tower. The people of Goldenrod had come out to welcome the "heros" of the nation, though Gold was their main target because he had been the focus for some time now. Gold and Silver were showered with love, and interviewed time and time again by news reporters and other business-like people that wanted to inside scoop about what truly happened in the radio tower. Well if you ask Gold he would tell you that he fought every grunt in boxers alone, but it wasn't hard because as soon as they saw his awesome body they dropped dead. If you asked Silver he would tell you quietly that it was handled, and that there's nothing to discuss now, and we need to keep a better watch out for Rocket in general. And if they asked me—which they did—I told them I shoved my hands into a bloody Miltank's vagina and pulled out its baby (you can see why most of the attention was on Gold yes?).

Gold was full of himself for a reason this time however, because Silver refused to let the publicity of his last name get out. The redhead had actually fought and beaten Proton after Typhlosion fell and Gold had been too stunned to battle anymore. There was only so much you could do once your main partner fell after all, I knew that and I didn't blame Gold for it. I actually thought his strained cockiness was the nicest thing he could have done for Silver at this time—the ace trainer wanted nothing of the sort and yet Gold was so brokenhearted over his loss that I knew the façade wouldn't last long. Even when I declared I was going home in the end Gold had been fighting tears—but not angry tears over his loss, he was fighting tears of strange epiphany.

In the end however that tiny, undersized Miltank had survived and Whitney had held onto it as her only thread of sanity she had left. I couldn't be more satisfied with myself for doing what I did—because I saved the only piece of her pokemon she had left. Whitney had insisted she name it after me as well, but I told her that was unnecessary and so I ended up naming it, but in all honesty after this long day I couldn't remember what I had chosen for the little steer (probably something stupid).

After Proton died in the Radio Tower in his cum soaked pants, the whole building seemed to grow silent, and I could remember the moment in which we finally felt a sense of peace, regardless of the fourth floor being horribly destroyed, we had never felt so achieved. The whole of Goldenrod was alight with spirit, and the only problem there seemed to be was that Morty wasn't there to hold me when I felt like I was going to cry… it would have all been perfect. A flicker of anger ignited in my heart as I looked at myself in the mirror—completely horrendous and pale under the bright bathroom lights. I had been alone today because Morty was in questioning… well not alone… I had my two best friends there and Clair had shown up at the very end to bitch a reporter out for not giving her attention, but still…

Sighing heavily I picked up my house phone—which had no dial tone to my dismay. I had cut the landline to save money this winter, and now I was regretting it. I had no way of calling Morty, and yet I couldn't bring myself to walk all the way to Eruteak to see if he was home—because what if he wasn't? And not to mention I was completely dead on my feet.

I moaned at myself in the mirror, having barely enough strength to even strip myself of my clothes, and failing miserably at the clasp on my belt. It was turning light out already but I wasn't feeling any bit brighter, I felt like I was sinking actually.

"Need some help?"

I jumped nearly out of my skin, gasping as a pair of strong arms curled around my waist, making me ridged for a second before I realized that it was the one person I wanted to see more than anything.

"Arceus." I breathed. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry." Morty chuckled gently, turning me around to face him so that my butt was up against the bathroom sink. He hoisted me up to be sitting in front of him before kissing me, so carefully that I thought I might shatter if he pressed any harder. He treated me as if I was fragile, and seeing as the condition I was in, he had every right to. My eyes drooped lazily as he pulled back, breathing a heavy sigh.

"I know what happened today… You put yourself in danger again."

I frowned. "I—I couldn't let Silver go alone, and Gold didn't show up until we were actually there."

Morty pressed his face into my collar bone, breathing in the dirty smells coming off of me and flinching. "Shit, what is that?"

"You don't want to know." I shook my head. "How did you get here?"

"Gengar unlocked your door."

"Obviously, but I mean… Gold said you were brought in for questioning—Morty I'm so sorry." I had been putting off this feeling for most of the day, but in all honesty all I wanted to do was hold Morty and tell him that it would be ok. I had been expecting him to look much worse than he did now, but it seemed the tables had been turned and while I was the one being held, he suddenly seemed that much more stable.

The ghost trainer unzipped my jacket slowly, not bothering to fix my collar as he considered my comment. I squirmed lightly, shedding the disgusting clothing item and then gripping my stained shirt from below. I inched it off with sigh as Morty moved forward.

"I should apologize, not you." Morty kissed the spot on my chest where my heart was. "I've been here for a while now, but when I did get here I saw on the news that you had just finished at the Radio Tower, so I just stayed here waiting for you."

Setting my arms on his shoulders and my cheek on his head and sighed. "It's ok… I'm glad you're here. You're the only person I want to see right now."

"Mmmn." Morty mused. "I love you Sweetheart, come on, you need to take a shower."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah… I love you too."

He plucked me from the countertop tightly, swinging my legs around his back so that he could kiss me feverishly while I clung to him, a tiny fraction of a tired smile breaking across my face while he tried not to laugh.

"Wh—what's so funny?" I hugged him, dilapidated.

He smiled sheepishly up at me, his violet eyes trying not to be mischievous but failing. "You're uhh… father…"

I glanced around, heart sinking as if I could actually see him—but of course I never could. A tiny fraction of guilt gnawed at my chest and I returned the sheepish smile, blushing faintly because… well I couldn't deny the fact that getting caught like this was the most rebellious thing I had ever done, and it actually felt good. I huffed a laugh, ruffling Morty's hair as he set my feet on the tile ground.

"Dad…" I spoke suddenly, unsure of myself. Morty's eyes flickered in surprised as I hid my face in his chest but spoke with authority. "Dad, I love Morty…" I said.

Morty snorted a laugh. "He's going to castrate you in your sleep."

I shook my head with a sigh, reaching down and unzipping my pants first and then Morty's. I let mine fall to the floor swiftly, stepping away from them and ignoring the feeling of being watched. "Dad… you can either stick around for the show or leave quietly..."

Morty grinned. "We're having sex?"

I smacked him softly. "No. but we're showering together right?"

"You're father doesn't approve…"

I groaned, throwing my head back in mock despair. "Dad!" I whined. "Get over it!"

Morty chuckled darkly. "He's not over it…"

I pouted, reaching down to yank Morty's pants off. "I don't care—too tired to care."

….

~Morty~

Questioning was only half the battle when you have a title already stamped on your back…

Creepy, freak, weirdo, mean, antisocial; those were all the lowly names people had given or called me, and in the end it's what got me in this position. Word of mouth, other people's shallow opinion, the judgmental nature of human beings… it was all cruel and typical and made me want to spit, however I didn't diagnose this for the fact that someone had targeted me. I wanted to know who, desperately, and Lance, though the questioning went well and I was no longer on the list of suspects at all (which left the list at zero again) refused to give me a name. He said it was unfair, but in all honestly I felt like tattling on the tattler was no big deal. He or she should know there is a price to pay… even if they did honestly think I was the suspect.

Falkner and I slept the majority of the next day, exhausted and weak from being up all night for different reasons, but at some point I knew I would have to let him go so he could do his usual chores. Normally in this situation I would have stayed in his bed and tried to sleep while his father cursed rude things at me (talk about name calling), but today I felt more inclined to Falkner, and I realized that really I just didn't want to let him go. Maybe it was because of the fact that last time we were together intimately (though it was just a few days ago) we had been with Gold and Silver and drunk out of our minds. I felt like I had to erase that memory as quickly as I could; and not because it was bad either—but because I was just feeling extra loving today.

I helped Falkner with the chores; feeding the birds and even bathing some of them (which was a nightmare come Zephyr's turn), and then changing the setting and the timer on the heater in the treehouse out back because it was now mid February and the snow had completely melted away. It still wasn't warm out, but it was nice enough to wear a single jacket and look forward to the upcoming spring—which would be the first spring Falkner and I spent together. This also got my thinking about Valentine's Day, which Falkner scoffed at when I brought it up, much to my sadness. I told him I would love to shower him in fluffy things, but he ended up throwing the hose nozzle at me in response—he seemed to be a little uptight.

The day was short and fast paced, making for a quiet evening until I got an angry phonecall—right in the middle of Falkner's cooking as well (and I loved his cooking)—saying that I had a challenger that refused to leave my gym porch until he got a badge. If it weren't for the fact that I hadn't a real gym battle in ages I would have said I didn't give a shit and stayed with Falkner, but in the end the bird trainer himself insisted I go with a tongue lashing about not taking challengers (and money) for granted. He also muttered something about whoring his body for money if he didn't get any challengers soon—so I stopped at the bank on the way home and cashed six thousand dollars to his gym because when you are Morty Matsuba, six thousand dollars is pocket change—a tip at a fancy bar or nightclub.

Falkner would kick my ass later for doing it but I kind of enjoyed that picture in my head…

Turns out though I didn't have a challenger, I had Eusine crying on my porch because something about Suicune and something about failing at life. I didn't pay much attention to him, but surprisingly after our former disputes and his groping at the gym, we wound up BACK at the gym and I was telling him all about my life with Falkner. Eusine was a good listener too, and even though he seemed disappointed that I was so clearly taken and happy, he let it go in saying that one day him and Suicune would make babies— cus he's a freak.

I bought the flamboyant man a drink and sent him on his merry way while I was still sober, hoping that it was enough to keep him off my porch for a while. It wasn't that I hated him… it was just that he seemed to like me much more than I expected. Part of me wondered what would have happened if I met him before Falkner; would we have gotten into something do to my careless loneliness? I doubted it… considering I chased Falkner for over a month when we first met, over simple lust too. I didn't even know what love was, but I knew that the way I felt for Falkner was more than the hazardous way Eusine came onto me. The weird ass legend hunter was just bored—he even said so himself while he was drinking.

I told Falkner to come over about nine tonight, convincing him of my house because I was tired of getting bitched at by his ghost of a father. It wasn't an argument either; Falkner had been working all evening with Zephyr and Lego, trying to get the two to look at each other while Pride really just wanted to be left alone. I thought it was somewhat amusing actually… but I guess Falkner took his bird's love life into consideration so I didn't say anything.

Waiting for Falkner was perhaps the most peaceful thing I had experienced in a long time, and I knew that after sleeping most of the morning and early afternoon we would be wide awake tonight, so I started running through my head with ideas and memories of former sexual interactions Falkner and I had together. Before I even stopped and realized that this was another horny enigma of my imagination, I was lighting all the candles in my bedroom and spraying warm winter smells about. I drew the blinds, fluffed the pillows, unlocked the front door so Falkner could just walk right in, took a hasty shower and then settled myself with thoughts on sex while waiting for him—I almost fell asleep in the process—but couldn't deny the hard that was nagging at me.

Tonight I didn't want lust. Tonight I wanted love, despite it all I felt the need to give in a different sense than usual. Picturing Falkner's face as he felt me between his legs I smiled, pulling my hand up over my forehead and blushing slightly. He had this sort of way of looking at me when he climaxed (every time I touched that special button deep within him), and I was determined to know the reason. I wanted to see those sultry eyes in another light—I wanted to feel it.

The sound of my front door clicking open was music to my ears and I turned to my side, nibbling my lower lip as Falkner entered.

"Morty?" He called quietly.

"In here Sweetheart…" I murmured just loud enough so he could hear me out in the living room. My eyes closed as I listened to his feet turn in my direction, stepping forward almost too quickly.

He was excited to see me… my heart fluttered.

I loved him so much…


	69. Chapter 69

~Falkner~

"Morty?" I murmured softly, pushing open his bedroom door only to be struck with a sudden, instense blast of warm sultry air. A chill ran up my spine as I blinked into the darkened room, familiarizing with the tiny flickering lights from the candles lines about the huge black iron rail bed with far too many pillows on it. I cocked my head to the side slightly in awe, seeing that Morty lay wrapped and luxurious with his legs tangled in a mass of heavy royal purple. It seemed that he replaced the usual black sheets with something a little more interesting, though his enormous black comforter still lay strewn across the foot of the bed. This time a harsher, stronger shudder rolled up my spine.

"Falkner…" He whispered, his hand twitching as it curled against the muscle of his strong hips, and his lavender eyes reflection hasty splotches of orange when he turned and looked up at me, balancing carefully on his elbow and letting loose a heart-wrenching and utterly seductive smirk. I responded with only my own helpless and probably not so sly smile while shaking out of my casual hoodie and hoping to find warmth in him. He looked so warm, and I had discovered long ago that being dressed in a warm bed with someone Morty was nowhere near as comfortable as being nude in bed with him.

"I'm sorry I had to leave earlier…" Morty murmured, laying his cheek in his hand and fluttering his dark eye lashes up at me.

"It's ok… Zephyr and I had a good time together…" That was the most sarcastic lie I could come up with, but it didn't matter anyways. What mattered was that we were here now and together in this outright sexual room breathing the same sexual air.

"Hmm?" Morty flipped onto his back as I bent to untie my shoes—I rarely ever kicked my shoes off do to hastiness. I undid the laces swiftly and pulled them off of my feet as well as my socks before pushing them out of the way towards the wall where we wouldn't slip on them.

"He shit on me." I commented. "But I already took a shower so don't worry…"

Morty sniffed a laugh, surely not as talkative as he usually was, but just as amused. I noticed upon looking at him that he had a strange blush across his nose, lining up with his high cheekbones in a way that I had never seen before. He ran a hand through his hair as well, shaking out some of the water before I spoke again.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked as I pulled my shirt off and threw it on my shoes.

"You."

I began unfastening my belt, smiling slightly as my insides tingled. It was a weird hour for me to be wide awake, but I quite liked the darkness and this low candle-lit room. It wasn't the usual groggy atmosphere either; it seemed to spark with desire. I found myself imagining Morty as Medusa as he lay in his beg, stroking the smooth and clean skin along his side, waiting for his next victim to come along and lose what's rightfully theirs.

"I want you…" Morty whispered, turning my fantasy into reality as I slipped my belt out and unzipped the jean material that lay upon my sensitive crotch.

"I'm all yours…" I murmured, trying to mimic that sexy tone of his, but in my opinion coming up short. Maybe my eyes made up for it—they sure felt heavy with sexual tension… there was a word for that too… what was it? Bedroom eyes…

"Mmmn…" the aroused ghost trainer turned again, sinking even further into those pillows and boring those eyes into me. "I want to try something different tonight…

I stepped forward, distrusting of his tone but still eager to know—what was there that we hadn't done together? We'd gone bareback, we'd given blowjobs and handjobs of every sort, I'd felt the various lubes he had on my skin, and I had even felt the weight of two other young men on me while we had sex—what else was there (besides toys that frightened me)?

"Uhh… O—Ok…" I huffed, slipping out of my pants and leaving me in the same outfit he wore—nothing but boxers.

Morty smiled, flushing a highly saturated color. "But you can't tell… not ever."

I swallowed, standing at the bedside as his fingers reached out and gently touched the tips of mine. It was strange seeing Morty move so slowly—so rationally for once. The usual wicked gleam on his face was replaced with something a little more like confusion and a lot more like desire. Desire wasn't unusual though, it just normally came off as lust. And though I wouldn't admit it, this sensitive Morty actually scared me more than the harassing one.

"Take me…" Morty slipped a hand into his boxers, pulling the dark marron fabric past his hip and revealing a gentle happy trail of blond hair. His face was sultry, dark, lulling to the beat of my sluggish heart as I crawled into the bed next to him. Candle fragrance made me dizzy in a good way as the dominant male stretched like a cat, corded neck with sharp jaw, eyes so slight and sexy that I was sure I couldn't breathe.

"Take me…" the ghost trainer repeated, closing those eyes and bringing his unoccupied hand up to his forehead where he laid it, looking like a damsel in distress with a risky undertone. Was this a joke? Was this really happening? Was Morty sick?

I curled up next to him, blinking and pressing my forehead to his with a tiny crease between my eyes. "Y—you don't have a fever." I murmured, waiting for his hands to grab me and throw me down.

"I'm serious." His whisked his lips across mine. "You're a man right? You can't tell me that you've never thought about it this way…"

Morty did have a point of course… though I couldn't say it was at the top of my priorities list, I had considered this relationship the other way around at one point. Because was male wouldn't? I had a dick, I had the strokes, I had the desire… so why shouldn't I want to take Morty? I looked into his eyes, raping the purple haze as best I could, trying to figure out just what was going on. There was a shallow pool of satisfaction rising in the pit of my stomach—tenting my boxers slightly as the ghost trainer's hand came forward, pressing his feather-light thumb to my throat, slipping his fingers through my hair and then kissing me so softly it actually hurt.

"I—I just—

"I want it…" Morty whispered in my ear. "Have you ever thought about how much easier it must be to receive than it is to give? I have… and I think I want to know that you can give…"

"It's not easy receiving…" I shook my head, thinking about all the mornings I woke up unable to walk.

"I don't mean physically." He explained, stroking my neck. "I meant… you just let it happen… but making it happen takes love. It's easy to allow, but not easy to give."

"I don't know what you are trying to say…" I admitted. "You make it sound like you love me more than I love you."

He blinked at me, tilting his head back to lay it in the pillows as he flipped over onto his back, dragging me on top of him so that our clothed erections could press together. I let out a gentle sigh at the soft feeling of his testicles against my own, leading up to the hard that drew the material up in a thick arrow shape. Despite the thin layer of cover up I could see just how much larger Morty was than me. And I knew from memory that the head of his cock was more pronounced than my slender rounded one as well.

"Prove me wrong." Morty suggested, looking up at me, his face only slightly visible under the candles glow.

"You think you love me more?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He grinned softly—daringly. "Prove me wrong."

I took a deep breath, wondering if this was going to be all I ever wanted and more, or if this would end in disaster. Morty was just so dominant… how could he submit so easily? And more importantly what had changed his mind? Why did he want this all of the sudden? Was he feeling unloved? I swallowed, knowing that in all our sexual intercourse before this I had only ever scratched and bit him in pure ecstasy, but had he felt the same thing I did? I doubted so… if he did he wouldn't care who was on top or not.

"Sweetheart…" Morty turned those killer eyes up at me again, this time more demandingly, like he usually would. "Fuck me."

I flushed a dark color, sitting in his lap and stretching my hands forward up his strong muscled chest, letting his nipples graze my palms in the same fashion he would usually touch me. It was a different view than normal, and I blinked sheepishly wondering where the boundary lay between me and him and this being his first time. Suddenly it all felt so strange—and empowering. Morty was stunning under me, strong, corded, toned and lovely in every aspect. He was a remarkable specimen lying on a dissection table, waiting to come undone.

I leant down then, carefully perching myself on his stomach and chest and lying atop him with my back arched tightly. He adjusted to be comfortable and propped up on the pillows even more so, letting him sink in luxuriously. I bit my lower lip, slightly nervous and then reaching forward to touch his jaw. How perfect. I kissed him tenderly, deepening it with my tongue and then a gnarled hazy gasp as he spread his legs apart and started to shuffle out of his boxers. I wriggled away from him, pulling up and shifting my own off, then sitting on him again as he settled.

He was sweating slightly from under me, head tilted back as I let my hands flit over him, unsure of this and not quite understanding what I was doing since this was so unexpected—I almost asked him not to make me do this, that is, until I realized that I wanted to do this. Since I refused to be on bottom my whole life with him, this was a nice change. This was a scary and horrendous too… but very nice.

_Is this REALLY ok?_, I wondered staring down at him, thinking that I'll be damned if he turned this around now. I was already furiously hard, my dick throbbing tightly at the way his hands curled into the sheets. He wasn't scared at all, but he was excited. He looked like he was going to burst and that gave me confidence. I swallowed, leaning down to kiss his neck, which led to his chest, to his stomach, his hips, and down further until I was at his demanding cock—right in my face. I licked it slowly, moving down, up, down again and then suckling against his balls, spitting the excess saliva out and hoping that at the very lease I would prepare him.

This was not my job however… I felt somewhat lost as he breathed erratically below me, cradling his a leg and pushing it up gently. I dipped in, flicking my tongue against the underside of his thighs and drawing a line up to the back of his knee with saliva. This made me feel strangely provocative under the candles glow—like a prostitute not a boyfriend.

Morty moaned softly, kicking his leg up over my shoulder and lifting his hips so that I was almost too close for comfort. I stared his asshole in the face bravely, my own cock dripping with precum now that it was so relevant and—could assholes be beautiful? I didn't really believe so… but his was close enough; tight and firm with fleshy muscle.

I always believed I was a brave person, but suddenly I felt more afraid than ever, since of course this was my first time ever fucking someone—Morty was way more experienced when he took me the first time. Vaguelly I kissed his toned buttcheeks, smiling sheepish at his tiny huff of pleasure, and then biting him—nice and hard on the left cheek so that he jumped in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" Morty grumbled, surprised to see me rolling the taste around on my tongue. I didn't answer, but decided to hoist him up higher and bite him again, this time in a spot closer to his balls, more on the inside of his thighs, which had him hissing with pleasure and pain.

I glanced down at him, quirking my eyebrow up and blushing when I realized that this was extremely enjoyable. Him just sitting there taking it… his face twisted into a sense of relief as well as pressure and the zealous quivering of his lips. Grinning now I pulled away, pushing up on the backs of his thighs and leaning over onto him again. I wasn't sure what exactly I was feeling, but the only thing quite worthy of describing it was devious. I grinned as I kissed him, a wild hair up my ass telling me to do naughty things because well… he was letting me. The tables suddenly turned and there was great gratification in pressing the head of my drooling dick to his backside and teasing him. He growled throatily, squeezing my hips and trying to restrain from rebounding and attacking me.

"Y—you're… not hesitating now." He commented, trying to make it sound like he wasn't fazed by the abnormal pressure against his hole. My head spun with the desire to get it in and get it going fast.

"I want you…" I grunted. "Of course I want you… you should… turn on your stomach."

Morty looked taken back, blinking at the words I spoke so carelessly. I bit at his throat deftly, thinking of all the ways that this could be done and wondering which was going to work the best. Visions swarmed the depths of my sanity as he cleared his throat, preparing to defy me and or change this around—could Morty take it willingly? Sure he said he could, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he might snap back to dominance any moment now. I sucked a harsh hickey onto his neck, using my hands to reach down and message the strong hips of my lover.

"Let me do it doggy style." I whispered, pushing a hand further and stopping at his arse, watching his eyes grow wide before I slithered the first segment of my middle finger into him. It was terribly dry.

"Shit… dammit, use lube." Morty cursed, a shiver rolling up his spine.

"I'm sorry what?" I pushed in further, enjoying the way he gasped. "Mmnn… Part those pretty lips." I repeated the words he'd said to me a few times.

Of course this made him snarl, baring his teeth because he couldn't deny that beyond the pain it would feel so terribly good. He scratched my sides with both hands, making me flinch while our dicks bobbed against one another, reaching up as if they were trying to be with one another.

"You're not going to be a bitch." Morty told me. "You wouldn't…"

I pulled up on the skin around my finger, stretching towards his dick and then to the side.

"You didn't use lube the first time…" I commented, moving from his face to his underside and pulling my finger away. I pushed his cheeks apart, digging my nails in because his ass was just that grab-able, and pushing forward to make out with the gently pulsing hole. I pushed my tongue in, closing my eyes and trying to imagine that this was what he would do to me. I drooled purposefully, using my hands to slicken it while he writhed, clutching the sheets.

"F—Fuck."

I gnawed on the short space between his hole and his balls, raking my teeth across it in wonder before slipping not one, but two fingers into him this time. He could only just contain himself, looking strained and red in the face as he tweaked his own nipples and pumped his own cock—slowly so that it could only build up without actually releasing.

"Turn over." I instructed.

"No… I wanna look you in the eyes." Morty retorted in strained passion, his violet eyes piercing me.

I perched my lips at him, looking down his hips and chest to where he was glancing up at me, daring for me not to listen to his request.

"And I want to fuck you mercilessly from behind."

"No… Falkner…"

"Yes."

"Falkner dammit. I—I don't want you to be rough."

I stopped then, realizing that I was mimicking the way he always acted towards me while having sex. There was a fine line between love and lust and hate after all… and looking down at him now I realized that him giving me so must lust from before and fueled the passionate hate in my chest to do the same. Suddenly I felt very nervous again, realizing that Morty didn't want me to do this to him how he did it to me, he wanted me to do it how I would do it.

"I—I don't…" I stammered. "But I've never seen it… any other way."

Morty took a long deep breath, reaching up with his hand and touching the side of my face. "This is your first time… don't try and force yourself to be something you're not."

I nearly choked. "Who are you and what have you done with Morty?"

"Sweetheart… I want love… not lust. Don't you?"

That was a stupid question, but I wasn't prepared for it in the slightest, considering he had never given me that option before. "Of course…"

He spread his legs beneath me, slightly further and pulling my shoulders forward until we were face to face and I was barely hovering over him. I kissed him, curling my hands through his hair and closing my eyes. I wasn't sure how I would pull this off exactly… but looking down at him I knew he was truly giving me the chance—and I didn't want to pass that up.

"Nice and easy…" Morty whispered, calming me, gently stroking my back. This was so completely opposite of the man he usually was… I was actually quite shocked, unsure of if I liked the softer Morty or the horny bastard Morty more.

I reached down with one hand, pressing my face into his neck while my hips rose far enough to separate us. I cursed at the awkward position (since he was taller than me) as I gripped my dick and pushed the head up against his hole.

"I don't feel very dominant…" I admitted, pausing as he closed his eyes, a hand gripping the hair on the back of my neck softly as he anticipated my entering. It would be rough but I knew that if I could handle his huge cock, he could handle my more slender one.

Morty chuckled softly, breathing deeply, sniffing me and indeed parting those pretty lips to kiss me. "Maybe if you'd put it in…"

I nodded slightly around our kiss, agreeing in silence as the faint glow of a candle illuminated the scene. I could feel a thin layer of slick around his entrance where my pre-cum was dripping again, and with that I had to move, softly pushing forward and arching my back as Morty grit his teeth.

This was the first time I'd ever put my dick in someone else, but I was awestruck by the near instant feeling of being trapped. Just the head was hard enough to get in, let alone pushing in any amount of length, and I found that despite my short discomfort… it was all too sexy not to love. I let out a small squeak as the skin on my dick peeled back with me thrust, which was followed by an unrepentant moan. I knew that Morty would be noisy, and as he adjusted my hips, trying to coach me as I eased it in with great effort, he was already panting heavily. Sweat was dampening his hair in the sultry room, as well as making my back and shoulders sticky.

"J—just a li—little—ahh!" I met him match for match and stopped, shaking as we managed together dry and perhaps stuck, but still _together_. My heart was racing as I coiled up over him, my wrists limp on his chest and my hair flopping in my face while I just stopped and felt him around me. "Y—you're so… hot." I shivered as his inner walls pulsed softly against me, gripping me and sucking lavishly.

"Y—You can—move now." Morty covered his mouth with his hands, showing that he was actually a lot more embarrassed than I thought possible. It was perhaps the cutest thing I had ever seen, and the fact that his eyes were watering with pain was even more shocking. I smiled a pathetic, helpless grin at him.

"Morty…" I huffed under my breath, rolling my hips once and receiving a genuine tug on my hair. "Does it hurt?"

He didn't respond, and I knew that was answer enough to believe that yes it did hurt— because I hadn't prepared him all that much. The raw sensation of soft skin against soft skin however… felt soothing and powerful from my side, and I knew that this was the reason Morty loved sex so much. He was in control, he was the strongest at that particular moment in time—which made him want to have sex more often. I rolled my hips again wondering if this was the only time he would give me this opportunity.

"Sh—shit." Morty trembled as my hand reached between us to play with his slimy cock.

I wouldn't waste a moment of it… just in case…

But the look on Morty's face was one of guilty pleasure—he LIKED it up his ass, I could tell, so I moved faster this time, jerking and enjoying the reactions he got as well as the inner walls of his body. _So hot_.

"Arceus I love you." Morty grunted between breaths.

I grit my teeth, fully moving now and happy to feel the friction—like wet static—between us. "Gonna… fuck you… out of… your mind…"

"N-o!" Morty slowed my hips, tossing his head back in pain. "C-calm the fuck down!"

"It feels so good!" I gasped, pulling away from his face. "Dammit Morty! Flip over!"

"Love me, don't fuck me!" He gripped my face in his hands and pulled me back to him, forcing his tongue inside my mouth as I held his legs up to reach a lower point. I thrust hard, out of love and lust and anger and hate for everything that had ever happened to me (especially lately).

"I—it's both!" I gasped, riding him like a rapidash and enjoying the active jerk I get every time my balls slapped against him—every time he gasped my name, telling me to stop but really wanting more.

"Turn over!" I begged, wanting to see his muscled back while his arms trembled and shook with strain of holding himself up. I wanted to watch him fall and I wanted to see his chest on the bed as I held his backside in the air—if he had the strength he could hold open his cheeks and make it that much more rewarding.

He let out a small scream of pleasure as I jackhammered the deepest part of his insides, unable to stop until he started rolling his body with me and the rhythm was just too perfect. Threatening to blow my load too soon I pulled out.

"P—Put it back!" Morty nearly shrieked a deathly growl that meant he wanted it.

"TURN OVER!"

"Fine!" He grunted, rolling swiftly and shoving his face into the pillows, just barely holding himself up with his knees.

I didn't hesitate this time, pressing my throbbing dick to his entrance and forcing it in almost smoothly. He gasped of course, and bit a pillow with all his might.

"D—Don't hold ba—ack!"

"Falkner!"

"Sh—SHIT!"

"D—Don't mo—

"Don't stop!"

"Ahh!"


	70. Chapter 70

~Falkner~

"Fuck this fucking bar of fucking soap!" Morty snarled, limp against the shower wall as he dropped the pointless bar for the second time, cursing and leaving it there without any shivering attempt to bend and pick it up-he was in too much pain.

"Just use the body wash." I commented, shaking out my damp hair and finishing the clasp on my belt. We woke up this morning soggy and opposite opposed to the norm. Morty was groaning, hating life, cursing at me for giving him such unyielding ass pain, and I was utterly relieved, a sort of power filling my veins and taking me to a world of bliss. I felt completely loose and free like a bird, as if someone had taken the personal stick-up-my-ass out. For the first time in what felt like forever I was truly comfortable-despite the tiny ache in my hips from all the thrusting I had done and the stain in my lower back, I felt on top of this world.

"I am NEVER letting you on top again." Morty hissed into the wall as a warm spray of water soaked him. He shivered slightly, perhaps feeling another spasm of pain from his backside. Or maybe it was because he was tattered with numerous bruises and hickeys of all shapes and sizes resembling my lips. His neck had gotten the worst of it, looking warm and flushed and even raw in some places, as well as the backs of his legs because for some reason biting him there had been a treat. There was even a precise little love mark on his left butt cheek.

I laughed softly. "I'm a little surprised... You're such a tough shit, but Arceus forbid you get your virginity taken... and all hell breaks loose."

He flipped me off, clicking the bottle of body wash open and pouring it onto a rag that was hanging over the door railing in his bathroom. This morning the house had been oddly silent (even more so than normal) and I realized with a start that somehow Zephyr had gotten out of his pokeball at some point and was sleeping traumatized in the corner of the room with Morty's Gengar hovering over him, trying to poke the normal type bird but failing as his body could not grasp such simplicity.

Surprisingly the snarky birdy bumpkin had shown me a new light of respect after witnessing such acts last night. He had been difficult at first, but after making him breakfast (pancakes again) he warmed up to me and actually let me cuddle him on the large leather couch while Morty slept off the exhaustion. Zephyr may not have ever thought of me as a good owner or trainer because I wasn't very dominant or leading, but after last night I assumed he saw that side of me and enjoyed it more than he should have. It got me wondering just how smart he was for his age, and then I remembered that he was approaching seven or eight months old and in bird years that was fulsome. He was growing up-and way behind on evolving-but that was ok.

Zephyr sat on the counter now, swooning with himself in the mirror and chirping softly at his reflection, perhaps thinking that it was the sexiest thing in the world. I laughed at him when he started pecking soft kisses against the glass with his beak, but was silenced with a narrow glare as he dared me to make fun of him. I rolled my eyes, slipping on a Tshirt because it was finally getting warm enough to wear them around the house. I left the bathroom to a rage-quitting Morty and a conceded/forever alone Zephyr with just enough time to hear my phone (I had bought a new one yesterday evening before coming over) ring from the nightstand in the larger open room with numerous melted candles and melted waxy flakes stuck around. Morty's usually neat room looked messy this time, what with the huge black comforter hanging off the end of it and some of the pillows thrown on the floor. The candle wax was just added, and there was a strange musky scent wafting from the bed every time you came too close-the smell of sex to dampen the room even more.

I reached for my phone swiftly, answering it before looking to see who was calling.

"Hello?" I pushed the thing between my shoulder and cheek as I reached for the sheets of the bed, swiftly flipping them off because there was a dangerous collision of body fluids lying about them now. It was like a toxic waste dump, only not literally toxic.

"Yo burdy buns~!" Clair's voice barked at me. "I'm calling you to let you know that dipshit is holding a meeting today. Apparently he wants us all together just to "talk" like we used to before Team Rocket started messing things up. He's butthurt or something... fuck Falky baby, I don't know what's up with him."

"You sound kind of honestly concerned..." I mumbled, rolling the sheets up into a ball and throwing them aside with the comforter before beginning the endless journey of peeling away pillow cases-who the hell needs over fifteen pillows?

"Pffft! You're fuckin' crazy. I don't care, I just don't understand." Clair insisted. "He can suck my pretty dick for all I care."

I snorted softly, rolling my eyes and wondering why it was never evident to me before now. Clair loved Lance; though she would never admit it she was in love with that wholesome and tactical champion that also happened to be her mentor and cousin. Though it wasn't by blood it was a little strange I admit, but at the same time I knew to hold my tongue before getting it shredding.

"I don't think it's a bad thing though... maybe all we need is some time to feel comfortable with each other again. Then things might start to feel more normal." I suggested, giving up on the pillows and only removing the ones with noticeable white stains on them (how the hell did cum get way up there? I would never know...).

"Nahh bro, what are you smoking?" She scoffed. "We don't need to try and fix anything. Damage done is damage done."

I sighed. "Alright, Clair. You're right."

"You best not be being sarcastic with me!"

"No, not at all... Clair I think you are really REALLY smart. And I think you are forever a goddess with the abilities of seduction like Medusa. Oh great one, I do not deserve the presence of-

"Shut the fack up Falkner." She laughed, cutting me off. "I have to go now anyways, I'm visiting Pryce."

"What time is the meeting?" I asked. "You didn't tell me."

"Today around the normal time-this evening about six."

"Alright thanks." I smiled at my phone as she said a swift goodbye and hung up. When would Clair realize that she was only covering up her emotions with her unconventional personality? I shook my head at the phone before flicking into the bare mattress before wrapping the collected pillowcases into a bundle with the other foul sheets and bending to pick them up.

"Graaarrr!"

I jolted back as a sudden helpful and polite Gengar appeared before me, in the middle of the pile while holding a pudgy but long clawed hand out, as if to tell me to stop. He flashed me a strangely handsome grin before bending and-solidifying? Was that the word? I wasn't sure but he became stable enough to pick up the mass of filth and carry it away.

"Thank you!" I called after the bobbing pile of bedding as he teetered off out of the master bedroom and into the hall where Morty's laundry room was. I wondered if the Gengar was naturally so kind or if Morty had trained him that way, which got me worried that the ghost's trainer I knew was not kind to pokemon. I imagined him being quite brutal in his barking orders and tough training sessions in the middle of the night.

"Morty!" I yelled, walking back into his open bathroom and seeing that Morty was now leaning against his counter with a towel wrapped around his waist as he tried to right himself from the pain. "Morty you make your pokemon do your laundry?" I asked skeptically.

"What?" He jerked forward flinching. "GENGAR!"

"What?" I followed in confusion, seeing Morty walk swiftly out of the room and into the hall again.

"He just wants to drink the bleach!"

I waited, scrunching my faced up as the trainer scolded its pokemon with harsh words that were actually quite amusing. I guess it was to be expected, after all Gengar was a poison type as well and bleach could be considered poison. I turned, seeing that Zephyr had raised his head from the mirror and was looking at me crossly.

"You look kind of frumpy." I commented as he plucked at an unruly feather. "I think you need to get out and fly..."

The bird shook his head in distaste, though getting up and hopping over to me.

"Jake and Pride are recovering well and it's been two days since they have flown... so I want to get them out into the sky." I wasn't sure why I was reasoning with Zephyr, when Morty was over there barking up a storm with Gengar who hissed back at him. I could nearly hear the tragedy in the pokemon's wail as Morty most likely snatched the bottle of bleach right out of his pudgy clawed hands.

Zephyr hopped up to my hand and waiting for me to pick him up and put him on my shoulder-which I did easily, but not without noticing how heavy he was. A twinge of hopelessness came over me; if this pidgey would evolve he would be perhaps the biggest pidgeotto that I had ever seen, and with that mass I knew he could become one of the strongest-if not the strongest. But of course, my sanctuary wasn't about raising birds to be fighters; it was just about raising birds. I was taught to believe that if a bird wasn't a warrior at heart it would never be happy being one for battles. Zephyr was nothing of the sort so I couldn't push him, even though he never seemed all that happy to begin with.

Zephyr pecked me in the side of the head as if he could read my mind, making me grunt mildly as I wished to throw him off. Morty came quietly back into the room them, muttering under his breath as his towel slipped down his hips. He decided he didn't care apparently, and threw it aside revealing ever stark naked inch of his body-an ever so slightly swollen penis.

"Don't tell me bleach and ghosts make you horny?" I asked nonchalantly as he fumbled through his drawers looking for pants.

"Everything makes me horny, don't you know that?" He said stiffly, still aggravated at the world.

"Why are you so pissed off?" I folded my arms as I came to stand next to him. "It wasn't like I took you without permission... you asked for it."

He glared at me, but said nothing.

"Oh come on, stop being mean."

"Kiss my ass."

"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "Morty, what the hell?"

The ghost trainer abandoned his search after pulling out a pair of boxers and yanking them up to his waist. He turned then, looking down at me with his jaw taut and his hand over his face in slight anger.

"I'm mad at myself." He muttered.

"Why?"

"Because..."

I stared up at him for a moment, the room sizzling between our staring. Normally I felt like my eyes reflected an eager and gentle water, calming and content and peaceful, but not this time. I scorched him with a wild, hot blue flame as he tried to skewer me with his sharp amethysts that seemed to have frozen like ice. He reached forward slowly-steadily as if not to "accidentally" smack me, and set his hand on the side of my face.

"I enjoyed it..." Morty admitted, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze soften back to the warm lilac pools they were only around me. "I'm mad at myself because I enjoyed it."

"If you didn't think you would enjoy it then why did you let me in the first place?" I challenged, though backing off quickly while he touched me. I turned my head to the side to kiss his wrist softly, to show that I wasn't really mad at him.

"I didn't think you would jackhammer me to the bed." Morty snorted. "Seriously where did you learn your strokes?"

I blushed, thinking that today would be a long day, especially with the league meeting tonight, and knowing that Morty would be complaining for the most of it. There was a shallow satisfaction growing in my chest though-I had made Morty like this, I had put him in this crappy mood, so of course I was ok with it. And he said he liked it, which was insinuating that I wasn't bad at sex at all (not that I thought I would be).

"Well... I learned from the best." I teased, leaning up to kiss him swiftly-only it turned into something deeper within a split second. He snagged me by the waist and pulled me into him, rhythmically stroking his lips against mine while that ever so slight hard beneath his boxers grew. I pulled away with a breath.

"No really, why are you horny?"

He shrugged, brushing my hair back as my fingers danced along the lines of fresh bruises on his chest.

"Falkner... I'm always horny." He grunted softly. "Plus I just woke up."

"Yeah like an hour ago!" I laughed, trying to lighten the mood even more as Zephyr was crouched down, ready to peck at the next lip assault from the ghost trainer.

He just shook his head at me. "You should give me a blow job."

"You're out of your mind." I patted him gently on the shoulder before turning away. "I have to get home to feed the birds and then I want to take them to the field so they can have a chance to fly freely... Oh and Clair called, tonight there is a meeting."

Morty groaned. "Well fuck my life."

"What? You aren't a suspect anymore, so what's it matter?"

Morty gaped at me in astonishment as if he thought I was the most retarded person in the world. He gestured madly to the various love bites. "What the hell do you THINK?"

I snickered. "Are you afraid they won't think you're so mean and scary when they see what I did to you?"

He scowled, flipping me off as I grabbed my phone from the bed and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Come meet me in the north field ok?" I blew him a kiss swiftly from across the room as I turned to leave. "I'll pack lunch."

If I wasn't mistaking I saw a very sarcastic and-somewhat hopeless-smile touch his lips. He caught the kiss in his hand and pushed it to his heart eagerly, but I knew he would never tell.

He loved it.

...

~Morty~

Being mean to Falkner wasn't going to solve anything, so of course I stopped as soon as I realized this, and I vowed not to take it out on him anymore. He was right when he said I had asked him for it, and I knew that he could hold that against me for as long as I lived. Of course this meant that making a fuss was more embarrassing than just taking it like a man and moving on. So I did, and I even wound up bringing pistachios of forgiveness to our little picnic date out on the north field of Violet City. It was the same field his father was buried six feet in the ground in, and strangely enough I felt a sense of completely and utter happiness (except my ass still hurt).

Falkner looked around in awe, seeing as though this first week of March had brought great changes to the field, while our hands were locked together and birds circled above us, swooping with delight as the gentle breeze carried their light bones in small gusts. Even Mama Bird was up there, enjoying herself with the younger stronger birds. She and Jake kept pace because the swellow had been shot in the wing with a pellet that night at the Radio Tower, and it was easier for him to go slowly now. Falkner said that Jake was healing well and that the pellet had actually deflected off of something else and then hit him, so it didn't cause as much damage as it could have being at such close range. The pellet had actually broken in half before it lodged itself in his left wing, which was an easy fix for the experts at the pokemon center.

"Did you know..." Falkner cracked a pistachio as he spoke. "My father... he said that the violet trees stopped blooming the year that his wife died."

"His wife?" I echoed in confusion. "Your mother?"

Falkner nodded. "Yeah, I didn't know her so I've never recalled her as mom, but that's not the point... the point is this is the first time these trees have blossomed in almost nineteen years."

I smiled at him as he pushed the light green pistachio out to Zephyr, who was sitting with us happily for once, enjoying the way the birds from above flew in long arcs and danced. Lego was up there as well, being one of the most agile and still the tiniest of all the birds (I could only just spot her every now and again). When I picked that bird for Falkner I had made sure that she was going to be a worthy addition to his flock, and I was glad to see that it was true.

"It's an early spring." I commented mildly. "Maybe that has something to do with it?"

Falkner shrugged, scooting closer to me so that he could push his face into my shoulder. "I was thinking it had something to do with you actually... well us."

I laughed under my breath. "You're living in a fairytale aren't you?"

He shook his head while fighting a sheepish grin. "Sometimes it feels like it... like now."

I squeezed his hand softly. "Even though we have that wretched meeting to go to tonight? Don't you think it's going to be a disaster?"

"I think we need to stick together in times of trouble... These meetings are important. Especially since we lost Chuck and Jasmine has gone down the shitter." Falkner scowled to himself, though obviously trying not to think about it too much. "Lance and Clair are still ok, they are always stable... and Pryce, even though we haven't seen him in a while he is still there for us. Bugsy seems to have gotten over Chuck's death because of Team Rocket-he wants revenge."

"That's not always a good thing." I stroked Falkner's hair softly, enjoying the way it resembled silk under my fingertips. Violet petals danced around us as Mama Bird preformed a lazy attack on a nearby tree, sending them astray and twirling in the cool breeze only to land amongst us. The air smelt sickly sweet, but was counteracted by Falkner's warm and comforting scent. I caught sight of his stunning aqua eyes as he breathed, looking up and forgetting my statement about revenge because in all honestly, it just didn't matter right now.

"I would say we should call Silver and Gold to come see this..." Falkner murmured a moment later, after all the petals fell and the birds flew higher again, up to the clouds making high pitched happy wails. "But... I'm too happy to be with you alone."

I kissed him on the forehead softly, thinking about how different this scene would be with Gold and Silver were here. Gold and I would be thumb wrestling because he would bring up the fact that I hadnt actually won last time, and Silver would be twirling about in the violet petals, his stunning red hair swishing behind him and Falkner told him all about our night of sex and how he dominated me (the bird trainer already warned me that he would be telling Silver, even though I threatened him not to tell anyone).

Falkner was absolutely right though. This was our time, not theirs. We could see them here another time when the moment was less personal and we weren't (Arceus forbid) living in a fairytale. I sighed happily, content with my Sweetheart, and letting all the thoughts about the league meeting tonight fly away-like the magnificent birds above us.

This was how it was supposed to be, forever and a lifetime. Me and Falkner. Birds and ghosts. Together.


	71. Chapter 71

~Morty~

Falkner and I spent an extra hour strolling to the pokemon league today, since we had nothing better to do and his birds enjoyed the sunset flight from far above us. Jake and Pride were flitting about in the sky, diving when they saw small ponds of water to catch magikarp that were too stupid to hide further beneath the surface. Lego was happily flying with them, even though she wasn't strong enough to lift a fish from the water and didn't have the right kind of eyes for hunting like that. She enjoyed the way Pride dipped and swooped, and was determined to keep up with him. Falkner said that she was smitten but it would pass because Pride was incapable of loving any bird like that, but I told him that if she really wanted it she would MAKE Pride love her (that was what I did to him after all), but then he said Jasmine could have done that to him—she'd tried plenty—but it didn't happen. This turned me off from the topic in general.

We talked a lot about Jasmine despite my not wanting to, and we even got to mentioning how she was more tolerant before Falkner came around in to begin with. I recalled a time when she actually felt bad for me (when everyone secluded me from the rest of them) and I remembered her asking me if I was ok, but of course I wasn't at the time, so I recoiled with a snarky comment about how she should mind her own business. That was when we first met however, and I was arrogant about the fact that she was our newest leader and she didn't have more than one pokemon—just that weak Steelix that Clair had destroyed in a friendly spar.

Falkner suggested that maybe something else had happened to Jasmine, since he didn't believe heartache could hurt someone so deeply—since he had felt it in his time as well, and I couldn't help but think he was right. Chuck had been murdered after all, that could leave a harsh affect in someone… but being that she would always push her "uncle" away I didn't understand. The relationship those two had always seemed so one-sided, and I never understood it to begin with… but I didn't exactly care either.

Then Bugsy, of all people, showed up on the way to the league, and Falkner challenged him to a roadside battle since we had plenty of time. It was a gentle fight to say the least, since even a bug like Scizor would quiver at the sight of a bird like Pride, and Falkner won easily, accepting the bet money with exuberance because Bugsy and his slowpoke well/apricot maker little town was always doing well with travelers. Not to mention the weather their remained mostly perfect all the time.

The three of us walked to the league together then, though Bugsy admitted to feeling a little awkward around us two, since we were holding hands and making smooshy faces at one another the whole time (on purpose to essentially bug the bug). Not to mention he was quite dissatisfied with his loss, however much of a good sport he was to begin with.

Falkner told me that Bugsy wasn't terrible once you got him talking about something OTHER than bugs, but I just didn't see it. The more I associated with people the more I realized the only one I really wanted to spend time around was Falkner. Few others were tolerable—like Gold and Silver and… Arceus forbid even Clair when she wasn't shoving her breasts into Falkner's face.

The league meeting hadn't started when we got there, but to my great amusement we caught Lance having a shitty therapy session with a tiny potted plant on the table we normally sat at, trying to soothe the pathetic thing for having a wilted flower when he had watered it. There was a lot to be said to a plant apparently—but Falkner couldn't restrain from laughing his ass off, which in return made me double over laughing because Falkner wound up snorting (he never snorted when he laughed). Bugsy had popped the top on a beer bottle and ended up spilling it in the carpet because he just couldn't take it and dropped to the floor. All the while Lance—our precious leader—begged us not to tell Clair who would never let him live it down. Too bad Clair had actually been watching through a video camera at the front receptionist's area the whole time until Will and Karen kicked her out.

Lance turned red and told everyone that it was normal to talk to things when you were lonely (but that was a little more than pathetic if you ask me). Even though… I was guilty as charged for the same act; I had talked to things that wouldn't respond when Falkner and I were split up. I surprised myself for being mildly concerned for the leader of us all; was he lonely? And more importantly than that… was this a sure fire sign that I was starting to care about these people? I loathed them before Falkner came along… but now it seemed that they were warming in me—all but Jasmine who stayed in the furthest corner of the room, hunched over and nibbling on a piece of toffee because Pryce insisted we try it (he'd brought it from a bakery in Blackthorn).

"Hey!" Clair commented, breaking the thick air of the meeting room as people seemed to spread apart, unaware of the source of their discomfort, but knowing that it was there. We had a lot to discuss, but no one wanted to break the easy going mood—except when Jasmine came that was what happened anyways. I was actually surprised no one notices it was Jasmine who made the air like this; or maybe they did and they were just too chicken to admit it. All I could say was at least Clair wasn't fazed.

"Hmm?" I looked past Falkner to his other side where she sat.

"Why do you have a hickey on your arm?"

I doubled back, looking at my wrist and realizing that I had shed my jacket nonchalantly because it was so warm in this room, and had completely forgotten about the hickeys Falkner put in the most random of places; my left wrist, my right arm. I scoffed at Clair as Falkner choked on a piece of taffy and Jasmine's eyes raked across the room, interested now that the topic was on my love life.

"That is the aftermath of the action that I'm getting… and you're not." I said curtly.

"Yeah but Falkner is too much of a wimp to do that." Clair sniffed, shoving a piece of the toffee into her bra for later. "Was it Gold? Lance said you two were secretly fucking."

"W—WHAT?" Falkner gaped, stifling a cough and blinking rapidly as the toffee scratched his throat.

"I never said that!" Lance defended from the head of the table.

Clair howled a laugh. "YES YOU DID! YOU WERE LIKE "HEY IM LANCE AND I WATCH GAY MEN HAVE AFFAIRS!"

Lance turned red. "I do not! Clair take your seat! Cla—

"IM LANCE AND I JUST WANNA—I WANNA FUCK CLAIR SENSELESS WITH MY TINY PEE PEE AFTER I EAT THIS TOFFEE OUT OF HER BRA!"

"Clair, shut the fuck up!" Jasmine shot across the table to the dragon trainer who was crawling towards the champion with her boobs nearly out of her shirt. It was the first thing Jasmine had said tonight.

"Hey, what did you say you anorexic slut?" Clair barked back at her, changing tone immediately from the warm fiery teasing to an ice cold vocal slap.

"Clair!" Pryce spoke up then, cutting into the dragon trainer's heart like barbed wire. He turned his pale white gaze on her and she backed down slowly, cautiously as if she were afraid he was going to punish her with intensive trainer later. Being Lance's grandfather and her adopted grandfather, it was a big problem. I'd never seen her step down from a challenge either, but apparently this old man had a way with controlling her. Guess even Clair respected her elders.

Jasmine sat shaking with anger in her seat, having crushed a piece of the toffee in her hand—that remark was uncalled for but I found that since I was an asshole I liked it. If no one was willing to point out Jasmine's flaws then at the very least Clair had a right to be nasty when she was—even if the obnoxious dragon trainer was in vain for being so loud in the first place.

Lance took a deep breath, ashamed that his grandfather had to step in and take charge when it was his job to do so. I watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, grunting softly and closing his eyes. "Where is Whitney?"

What a subject change.

"Jasmine do you know?" the dragon trainer asked carefully.

The steel trainer might as well have cut him with her tongue. "We're not talking." She hissed.

Falkner, to my surprise piped up. "Why? Because you didn't help at the Radio Tower?"

"I don't what you're talking about."

"You were there and then you left." He crossed his arms stubbornly, his lips drawn down in a very tight line. Lately it seemed that Falkner was sporting his mind more often, a sign that dominance was in his blood—like raising birds. The bluenette was intelligent and honorable and that was a deadly combination when it came to things like this. His piercing aqua eyes were the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"You left?" Lance's brow drew down in confusion. "Jasmine you told me that you couldn't make it because one of your magnemite was sick."

"And you're taking his side?" Jasmine hissed. "I don't suppose you consider that he might be lying…"

"Well lately you haven't exactly been right about the truth." I slithered my way into the conversation, closing my mouth together and remembering the interrogation that had gone on in this very room. Lance had asked me numerous questions about Chuck and the approximate day he was murdered on. Then after Lance asked the questions I had to repeat the answers before a judge and then after that I took a lie detector test which was probably the most nerve-racking thing I had ever been through. The good part was everything had come out clean like the truth should and I was let out that night, which was when Jasmine had apparently "not helped" at the Goldenrod Radio tower.

"Your opinion on the matter DOESN'T matter because you will always choose Falkner's side." Jasmine looked as if she was caught between sinking into the shadows and bursting out with hate. She really wasn't the same "sweet" girl that she was months ago before Falkner came along. She was damaged, which brought back the idea that something else must have happened to her aside from heartache. The Jasmine she once was would never stoop so low as to retreat from a battle against team Rocket—only the lowest of people, team Rocket themselves, would do that.

"Jasmine, Morty has a point." Lance interrupted, shoving Clair's face away from him because she leaned in to get a good sniff of his hair obnoxiously. She was also eagerly awaiting the words that would come out of the champions mouth—anything she could put down.

"Jasmine you were wrong when you accused Morty, and… based on that judgment along I will have to assume that Falkner is telling the truth… so why don't you tell us where you were the night of the Radio Tower incident?"

"I was home!" She inquired, her voice reaching a high that wasn't to be expected.

"You were at Whitney's gym when I saw you!" Falkner smacked his hands down on the table and looked up to Lance. "Silver was there! He knows the truth."

"No!" Jasmine insisted, though her face turned a shade darker.

Lance looked between the two fuming gym leaders, his eyes skimming over a very confused looking Bugsy and a very solemn Pryce. His eyes disregarded Clair who was wide eyed and thrilled to be remembering such a night of misery. I perched my lips, wishing that I could have been there if it weren't for fucking Jasmine in the first place.

"I'm calling him tonight Jasmine… after the meeting I want to have a serious talk with you…" Lance finally muttered. "You are not permitted to leave until I dismiss you."

"You've got to be kidding me!" She cursed under her breath.

"Bitches be guilty!" Clair sucked the lingering stickiness of toffee off her finger with a dramatic ipop/i.

"Guilty of what?" A new voice entered the room then suddenly, and our eyes all turned up to see Whitney, who was late and looking a little worn down herself. It had only been a few days since she lost her beloved Miltank to childbirth, but in that condition I assumed she would actually look worse. Her head was still on straight—unlike Jasmine who was fidgeting and holding herself by the knees farthest away from everyone else.

"I am NOT guilty!" Jasmine shot back at the dragon trainer.

"Alright, we will see what Silver says later."

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Bitch please."

"FUCK YOU CLAIR!"

"I'LL SLAUGHTER YOU, CUNT!" Clair had reached her limit then, suddenly getting up and nearly leaping across the table to where Jasmine cowered, though her dull hazel eyes wide with hate as the larger female strutted by, boots thumping on the carpet until the whole room fizzled with shock. Whitney gasped and Lance lurched forward, intending to stop his unruly apprentice, but failing as her reach was much longer than anticipated. Jasmine squealed in misery as Clair raked her knuckles across the tiny girl's temple.

"CLAIR!" Pryce howled again, but was ignored as Jasmine struck back, finally finding herself and yanking Clair around into the table—only that's what Clair wanted anyways. The larger woman curled her forearm under her chin and peeled her back with unyielding muscles. Two glasses of water and one of wine got thrown across the table, spilling all over Bugsy's lap who was tossing a pokeball into the air—that fucking Scizor that he regarded as Arceus.

"YOU'RE SO FUCKING PITIFUL! GET OFF THE FUCKING GROUND! STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF!" Clair screamed the words that all the gym leaders wanted to say to Clair, and I couldn't help but be happy that this was happening. Jasmine bleeding from the brow was perhaps the most rewarding thing, considering she had been chasing my Sweetheart for months—not to mention blaming me for murder.

"CLAIR!" Lance snarled, stepping forward and ripping the dragon trainer off of the steel one with extreme speed. He literally threw her on the floor, stepping on her left wrist to pin her so that she wouldn't attempt to get up again.

"You know it's true! You're just too pussy to say it!" Clair rasped, looking completely unscathed aside from a single scratch on her lower lip, which bled ever so slightly.

Bugsy's scizor snorted and flapped its hard shelled wings at lightning speed, concerned to be in such a tight controlled space.

"Bugsy, call that pokemon back!" Lance hissed at the shortest leader, who pouted in concern to know that his heroic help was now not needed. At this Falkner reached over and acknowledged me with a touch of his hand, curling his fingers between mine and sighing heavily. We all knew that Clair was right, but Jasmine sobbing helplessly, still in her chair and shaking was too hard to ignore.

"Jasmine… come with me." Pryce, calm as ever, stood and gestured for the steel trainer to follow. Her eyes flashed with horror as the old man reached out and took her by the wrist, nearly yanking her from the chair and stumbling along with his hand on his trademark cane as the room grew deadly silent. Whitney moved from the doorway as the two trainers left, Pryce slamming the door and making us all flinch in unison.

"Let me up you fat lard!" Clair barked from where he lay in the ground, trying to yank her hand out from under Lance's boot.

"Clair…" Lance's voice was deadly silent, a noise only us sitting closest could hear. "I. Am. So. Dissapointed. In. You!"

He yanked his foot back then, giving her her wrist and—to our astonishment—turning to run from the room. "Go home, all of you!" he shot back at us before tramping out the door after Pryce and Jasmine.

Falkner and I looked at each other in confusion, unsure of what to do but knowing that tonight had gotten out of hand for no good reason.

"W—we can't fall apart." Whitney sniffed, fighting tears. "Not now… We have Rocket to deal with…"

The pink cotton candy haired girl turned and left, having never even gotten the chance to sit down. Bugsy, in perverted concern, followed swiftly, leaving Falkner and I together and alone with Clair, who sat on the floor still, her knees up to her chest and thinking angrily about what Lance said to her.

"She's right." Falkner agreed, releasing my hand and standing. "I'm going to get something to wipe this up…" Surely I didn't miss the way he patted Clair on the shoulder as he passed her and vanished.

"Clair…" I murmured gently, surprising even myself. "You did exactly what all of us have wanted to do, no one can stay mad at you for that."

"I'm not worried about them being mad at me; I'm worried about Jasmine fucking things up for us even more… something happened to her."

I nodded. "Falkner thinks so too."

"Morty… they finished investigating Chuck's gym… and Lance wasn't going to ask you for a little while since you just got out of questioning, but I don't care. Chuck might know what happened to Jasmine, or he might know SOMETHING… so can you go talk to him?"

I nodded simply, despite the nag at my heart that said these people still only wanted me for my abilities. Of course I wasn't stupid enough not to go talk to Chuck's ghost—I had promised I would and I was curious myself, but this was something I wanted time to prepare for. More often than not new ghosts where very powerful, and didn't know how to control themselves.

Falkner came back in a moment with a rag in his hand and Will, one of the Elite four members, following with a bottle of spray so they wouldn't get stray pokemon sniffing out the sugar in the wine that had split.

"I'll do it, no worries." Will said happily, unfazed by the trauma. Clair scooped herself up off the floor upon their arrival, but made no attempt to leave the room and face her disappointed cousin and raging grandfather.

"You sure?" Falkner murmured, handing him the rag.

Will nodded and began wiping up the spills.

The bird trainer swept over to me then, holding out his hand and letting me take it simply. "My house or yours?" he asked under his breath.

I smiled at him, remembering the ache in my backside from last night, and knowing that he was only asking because he was hoping I would say his house—but I wouldn't. We never had sex at Falkner's house because a certain annoying father was always watching, but in this case I knew Falkner just didn't want to be at my house because I had threatened to make him explode for making my ass hurt. He smiled weakly at me, helplessly because he knew what I was thinking.

"My house most surely." I stood up, releasing his hand in exchange for a handful of his plump backside—the most perverted way to walk with your lover.

He frowned, pouting slightly, using that cute face against me because—dammit—he knew he could.

"Clean sheets to mess up~" I grinned widely, leaned down to peck him on the forehead, watching the way his nose scrunched up in distaste.


	72. Chapter 72

~Falkner~

I sighed happily, letting the breeze push my hair back as I lay in the hammock in my backyard. Mama Bird lay beside me with her head over my stomach, snoring ever so softly as I brushed a hand across her gentle, graying feathers. It wasn't often that I got to just sit down and relax with my birds, despite my chores and the time I had given to Morty lately-not to mention battles were starting to pick up again with the warming weather. I knew that this was the pre-season of new trainers coming out into the big bad world, ready to face each gym head on as they tried to get their badges. This year I could expect it to be crazy as well, since Kanto trainers could cross over into Johto for badges. I didn't mind having a lot of challengers though, that's what running a gym was all about, and it was nice to know that I could actually have money to pay off Morty for all he had given to me, and save up for the next off season. After being so rusty this winter, and having only started at the end of summer (rather than the luxury of having trainers all summer) I knew that this year I would fare better.

"Do you think my father is proud of me?" I asked gently, softly so not to disturb Zephyr who was curled up in the crook of my shoulder, laying in the dapples of sunlight because he enjoyed the warmth more than the cool shade.

Mama Bird raised her head and tilted it sideways as if to question why I was questioning myself. Of course I knew that this was a stupid question, but I still felt like maybe Walter Hayato was holding a grudge against me for falling in love with a man-not that it would change my mind if he did or didn't approve. Even so, the motherly Pidgeot pecked me softly, tugging on a stray piece of hair as if to say that I needn't worry about it. I was doing the best I could and she was proud of me, so I had to assume that my father must see gratification in that.

"I'm happy Mama Bird." I whispered after a moment of just staring through the slender dappled tree tops. "Even though things aren't perfect... and we're still having a bit of trouble with Team Rocket, and Jasmine isn't the same... I'm really happy."

She nudged me softly, also happy to know that her eldest "son" was living a more relaxed lifestyle. I knew that she worried about me endlessly, especially come times like when Morty and I split up-which was the single most miserable thing I had ever gone through. I knew that if I ever had to go through that again I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

Speaking of Morty, the reason he wasn't here with me right now was because he was on his way to Cianwood to connect to the fighting gym leader's ghost. I had volunteered to go with him, but he had rejected the offer smoothly, saying that there were some things he just had to do alone. I respected this of course, but couldn't help but be disappointed anyways. Apparently sex in a hotel room overlooking the ocean wasn't even enough to get him to let me tag along-so I was lonely. Which is kind of ironic because before I met Morty I would have you believe that loneliness was just a side effect of one's self pity (the words of my father actually) and I would have said that I just wasn't a lonely person. Only now that I had Morty I realized that I had only been so used to the lonely that it hadn't fazed me. And now it did... there was even a gap in my heart that my beloved birds couldn't fill when he was gone.

The trees above me swayed softly, leisurely back and forth in the late winter wind, making me drowsy with the sounds of scraping branches. Give it another month or less and the trees here would be blooming like those violet ones in the field outside of town, filling the soon-to-be spring air with petals and pollen that would give Jake bad allergies-poor birdy couldn't help it.

A small muffled voice caught me off guard just as I thought I was about to fall asleep beneath the pale sunlight, and I turned my head around in slightly confusion as to see that it was y most unexpected but completely welcome guest-complete with a bird on his shoulder as well!

"Silver!" I turned to see the lean redhead walking towards me, his pantlegs wet from the marshy ground around the edge of the pond, since it had overflowed when the snow melted. His lovely, black as night Murkrow sat proudly on his shoulder, fluffing her wings and pressing her oddly straight beak into her chest fur as if she were cold-or snobby.

"What are you doing here?" I ignored Zephyr's screech of discern as I jostled him from his sleeping position. Mama Bird raised her head and pecked him a hard one for being so rude, then chirped insistently until her son obeyed and stumbled off with her. The two didn't even fly because Zephyr was so stubborn.

"Gold is on his way to challenge Clair... but I didn't feel like trucking through the ice cave and being cold... so I headed this way to see you."

"No way!" I smiled. "Good timing because Morty went to Cianwood today... I'm all alone."

Silver was all smiles as he approached me, his namesake eyes glittering happily and lovingly-much unlike the last time I had seen him at the Radio Tower, when he had been too concerned with Gold's loss to spare the world one of his dashing grins. I returned the favor to him now, eyeing that Murkrow with curiosity as he dipped his shoulder, knowing I would want to reach out to it.

She was clearly female in her size, with long sleek feathers but shorter wings in general. Her artfully crafted feathers sticking up aroundher head and her pale yellow eyes looking strained in the sun.

"Hey baby girl~" I crooned to her, whistling softly and holding my hand face forward to her.

"Go on Murkrow." Silver instructed to the pokemon.

The black bird snorted softly, refusing to take my offer despite her wanting too-I had that effect on birds, which was initially how I gained their trust to begin with. Only this Murkrow was insistent on being snarky, so I was a little disappointed when she flew away from me.

"Murkr-

"Don't worry about it." I laughed softly. "Wait until Pride sees her... She will come flying back."

Silver looked more scared than relieved at that, but seeing as though the bird was already high above in an oak tree there was no point in dreading.

"She won't fly away farther?"

"Nah." I shook my head. "She had no reason to."

"I trust your expertise." Silver sighed as I scooted over in the hammock, gesturing for him to lay with me. "Come on." I pulled him down by the wrist. "How are you and Gold?"

Silver blushed, scrambling in next to me and planting a friendly peck on the back of my hand before sighing. "We're just... fantastic."

"Is that sarcasm?" I teased.

"No!" he shook his head. "I mean it... he's perfect. He is everything to me."

"Good." I nodded pleasantly. "Me and Morty are also doing great... of course, we argue all the time but... oh! You're never going to guess what happened..."

Silver turned to his side, making us sway softly. "What?"

I bent forward to whisper dramatically in his ear, a faint memory blush igniting color on my cheeks. "Morty let me be on top..."

The redhead doubled back, accidentally clocking heads with me in the process but being too shocked to care. He gaped in astonishment. "He-He LET you?"

I nodded. "Believe it or not... haha... he WANTED it."

Silver resembled a magikarp in the way he looked at me-eyes wide and glossed over with shock. He blinked furiously, trying to understand just what I had said with the previous ways Morty was during sex-after all Silver had seen the ghost trainer flying high on horniness, his remarkable strokes, and his pure and utter dominance first hand.

"H-How?"

I giggled stiffly, glancing around stupidly as if someone was going to hear and spread rumors. Since I had promised Morty to only tell Silver I didn't want to take any chances though.

"One night... couple nights ago, he just... told me to do it... He said that it was easier to be the one receiving than the one giving, and he made it sound like he loved me more since he was doing the "giving" but I think I changed his mind."

Silver grinned cheerily. "I don't suppose you were hesitant either?"

"Well I thought he was joking at first!" I laughed. "It was so unexpected... I mean what would you do if Gold did that?"

"Pinch myself until I woke up." Silver rolled his eyes. "Gold has officially gone over the edge with sex though... He has this wild idea that it's sexier or kinky to do it in odd places... Do you know what it's like to have your ass sticking to the walls of an ice cave?" I gaped as he went on. "Yeah! That's why I refused to go with Gold to Blackthorn today."

I snickered. "Free waxing service."

"My ass isn't hairy!"

I tossed my head back, pulling an arm up and reaching down to yank playfully on a strand of his foxy red hair. He sank into me, letting the hammock cradle us gently in the winter warmth for a long moment while I considered the way my life would be without friends like Silver. He was truly inspiring, his dashing smiles most adorable in even the toughest situations. I'd heard the way he screams in pleasure, I'd felt his lips on mine, and yet I knew that him without Gold would never be the same. Silver was my best friend, but as far as lovers go, Gold and Morty were still significant any way you dice it. I guess you could say that Silver and I were each other's second best... but since we had found our number one it didn't matter.

"Can you believe just how far we have come?" I asked quietly, listening to the distance chirp of wild pidgeotto enjoying their freedom in the safety of this sanctuary. From somewhere near off I could hear Zephyr squealing in anger for something-probably inability to get honey from a tree.

Silver shook his head. "Not at all... Especially not Gold. I mean just a couple months ago he was just some teenager I begged to keep my secret... and now he is moving on to become the next champion. Clair is the final badge... then he will challenge Lance."

"That's crazy." I agreed. "And to think... it's been over six months since I met Morty... and it all started when Zephyr landed on his head!"

Silver looked at me crossly. "Really? Must have been fate that way... I mean why would the most important thing in your life lead you to the next most important thing unless it was fate?"

I nodded in agreement, closing my eyes in content and letting my head fall against Silver's shoulder. "I wonder what Morty is doing right now..."

"Wondering what you are doing... maybe..." Silver suggested.

"Or having a therapy session with a ghost!"

"Or that... he's going to find out who murdered Chuck right?"

"Right... I wonder who did it... some Team Rocket member... but... I don't know. You never know." I yawned.

"Probably just Rocket..." Silver murmured. "It's a shame... I hadn't even gotten a badge from him before he died. Gold was lucky enough... that's how Clair's badge will be his eight, and I'm pretty much screwed unless I go to Kanto."

"Which you won't do." I added, knowing that Silver's past had lead him to Johto in the first place-why would he want to go back there?

"Never." He agreed. "Kanto is gross as it is... Not to mention that I left there for a real reason..."

"Yeah..." I echoed, reaching into my pocket and checking the time on my phone swiftly. We had plenty of time to kill, but couldn't be bothered to move exactly. "If I fall asleep here I'm sorry..." I told Silver while yawning.

The redhead shrugged, snuggling up into my side. "Sounds good to me."

...

We spent the day lounging about together happily, sleeping more than enough, complaining when we drooled on each other, and eventually finding the strength to get off our lazy bums. I ended up giving Silver a bird training lesson on how to handle birds like his Murkrow-who had oddly enough become one with the sanctuary almost instantly. Pride didn't take her as a threat because she was a female to stat with (not a threatening male to take over his flock) and because she was relatively independent. Jake on the other hand had gone absolutely gaga over the black bird, twirling in the air and ruffling his feathers to attract her attention (which she did not return). It was a little sad to see him trying so hard, especially since his original mate had abandoned him and left the sanctuary with nothing but un-hatched eggs to care for. The swellow was quick on the rebound, however failing as a parent and leaving the other pidgeotto to take in the few surviving tailow and raise them.

Murkrow didn't seem to want much to do with my handsome bird, but she seemed to want everything to do with the sanctuary. It was free room and board for a bird like her, and I didn't mind because of course-more birds meant a happier world. Silver and I talked about it over take out Chinese food, and came up with a compromise-if I could beat Silver in battle I could have the Murkrow. This was a one on one battle between the black she-bird herself, and my beloved Jake who had stepped up to the plate rather than Pride who had been my first choice. Jake couldn't attract the Murkrow's attention through fluff and flighty tricks, so he was determined to do it with strength and skill. In the end it was my bird that had out-willed the Murkrow and won the battle (also because Silver hadn't the slightest clue what kind of flying attacks benefited a bird of multiple types).

Further into the day we found ourselves acting childish and silly. We prank called Bugsy (who was a good sport about it until we called his bug overrated and hung up), we walked around town shopping for nothing but rather enjoying trying things on. Victoria's Secret had been an ideal place to go because it was brand new and I managed to get Silver into skimpy butterfree themed lingerie and snap a picture before he took it off. Of course I sent that picture to Gold, who replied with a terrorized message saying that he would re-pay me for the outfit later if I bought it for him (Silver refused). I ended up doing it because it was on sale-Gold didn't know that though so he would pay me full price anyways.

After that experience we wound up doing a swift midnight-cleaning hour around my house, which was dusty and neglected due to how much time I had been spending with Morty lately. It wasn't as if anything was really out of place though, things just needed to be vacuumed and wiped and the kitchen was a bit underused-so I made hot chocolate on the stove and Silver made fun of me for insisting on large marshmallows rather than mini ones. We got a call about this time saying that Gold had beaten Clair because of Silver's little "good luck picture". We cheered happily, knowing that from here on Gold would be training specifically for the pokemon league and the champion in particular. It was an amazing victory-Silver actually cried with joy for his lover-and a near perfect way to end the night (despite Morty not being there).

The two of us curled up together and fell asleep listening to soft music on the couch, grinning from time to time because our dreams were just so damn happy. This life we were living was going great now-I felt on top of the world.


	73. Chapter 73

~Morty~

The last time I had been to Cianwood everything was fine and dandy—at least that's what I assumed because I couldn't remember the last time I had been there. There was no further regard to the Oceanside town except the fact that it was salty and the air was heavy even in the winter. This place was warm, sultry, and the humidity actually made my hair curl more than usual. The windthrown blond waves were sticking to my forehead, making me flip them angrily when a sudden seaside gust would run rampant.

The journey from Ecruteak to Cianwood wasn't long, but it was tedious because I had to get on a boat and travel across the bay around one of three islands that stood between the two pieces of land. The waves were choppy, disturbed by an odd storm that was heading in over the ocean, looming up on land as if it were a smaller creature being stalked. Making me soaked by the time I pulled up on the shore, I had to wade through damp sand until I reached the previous fighting gym leader's home, but it was only then that I had to stop—as a sort of ritual.

Chuck Shijima, the second oldest of our group of eight (now seven), and perhaps the most skilled in pure power. He had never bragged about his obsession of brute strength, and he had never tried to change anyone with it. Unlike some gym leaders that tended to push their preferences on the others—Bugsy, Clair, even myself on occasion—he was quietly enthusiastic on his own. The only time I ever remembered being mad at him was when he either spilt drinks because he didn't know his own body mass, or when he laughed obnoxiously about nothing in particular. It was a terrible guffaw, but I couldn't exactly remember why in the past I let this get to me. He really was a good man.

I stopped on the doorstep, looking at the knob with a sliver of cautious tape still wrapped around it. There was talk about the town concerning their new leader, but I could tell by the hasty way everyone moved that no one truly understood how or why things had happened the way they did. It seemed there was some external turmoil about the minds of the citizens here and sadly enough I didn't care. I was here on a mission, to talk to Chuck's ghost and find out the truth about his murder, but nothing more. My hand lingered on the beach house knob, touching it swiftly and imagining what I must have been like to be a murderer touching this same door. Had they felt how cold the metal was underneath the warmth of a man who truly loved battling and pokemon and the town he lived in? A man who's personality was highly saturated with alcohol and often lulling and lazy without it. A man who took care of his best friend's daughter while he abandoned Johto to open a safari zone in Kanto. There was such a story to tell for Chuck, that I couldn't imagine the murderer understanding it.

"Gengar…" I retreated, pulling my hand away and telling my faithful ghost to unlock the door. It was wrong of me to break the security on a locked door… especially the locked door of a ghost, whose secrets were hidden beneath the police-swabbed interior. I held a great deal of respect for the dead, despite then truly just being lonely and pitiful creatures with no real reason for "living". Chuck was no exception to this kind of regard I gave—I intended to treat him with respect even though we were nothing more than acquaintances in the past.

I pushed the unlocked door open slowly, letting a wave of moisture coated dust puff back at me, showing no signs of the living for over a few weeks. This whole investigation had been put on a slight standstill thanks to the Goldenrod issue, and my being accused of his murder. It was as if this house had been meant to sit in its own dreary pot before I got here to see just what the police had done.

They cleaned everything to begin with, perfectly shiny surfaces of chrome countertops and odd knickknacks with just a fine coat of that dust. Everything smelt of either bleach or other chemicals, which made me assume that Gengar would go around licking everything. I shot him a warning glance, and he shuffled off sadly.

Taking a deep breath I looked around, raising my head and turning towards the first obvious hallway. It looked to lead to his bedroom area, so I assumed that wasn't where he would be. Not because ghosts didn't want to be in their home, but because he was murdered in the gym, and only the blood of his murder had been tracked through the rest of his house. I turned back, passing the entryway to the tiny kitchen that looked as if it was never used (except for the microwave, which looked to be on its last leg because it had been used so much). In almost all of the gym leaders homes there is a door leading from their personal house to their gym, which was what I was looking for now with little luck.

Passing another short hallway that lead to a laundry room I stopped, shocked to find that before me was a wall of endless photographs, all hung neatly and framed with various colors and textures. My heart felt heavy, fore this was always the hardest part about ghosts—seeing the way they lived and who they were without actually knowing them. I looked at the first eye level picture, perching my lips to see that it was of his beloved Poliwrath—I made a mental note to check in drawers, on belts, or in any obvious safes for pokeballs since the police are not allowed by law to take them out of homes.

The second picture was old and yellowing beneath the glass, but it was recognizable as Chuck's wedding. I hadn't been there, and I never knew the younger, more petite woman that stood beside a mountain in that picture, but I knew that this was a woman Chuck loved very much. There was at least a dozen pictures of either them together or just her up on this wall. She was fair, with dark brown hair and lost eyes that somehow showed the future—their divorce. Chuck had been clueless of the event judging by the unconditional way he smiled at her in every photo. My face twisted down into a scowl as I moved along the wall, ignoring the photos of his pokemon over the years, and looking to the next cluster staring back at me—Jasmine.

She was an infant having just been born. She was a toddler with her hand in the cookie jar. She was a five year old little girl in a sundress with eyes too large for her face. She was an eight year old baking a cake for the first time. She was a twelve year old receiving her first pokemon—steelix. She was sixteen with a beach tan and makeup. She was eighteen with a diploma in her hands. And finally she was nineteen standing beside her new gym for the first time, her hand on the door with her chestnut eyes shimmering like the stars because she was just so damn happy she was crying. I had never even noticed before, but I had to admit now, that Jasmine… despite the hell she had caused me, was still a person with a life and a home and a family that loved her—all the things that I lacked growing up.

And she had Chuck. She had a man that loved her like a daughter with all his heart. I grit my teeth at the selfishness in that—the irony every time she ever pushed her "uncle" away. Her father was on this wall as well as her mother, how had Jasmine ever looked badly upon Chuck? How could she have made him so miserable… the resort to this? Putting pictures up of her smiling to fill the emptiness in his heart. His wife left him, his "niece" rejected him, and he had no one else… Not even Bugsy, who had been his best friend in the short years that they were both gym leaders together, had made it on this wall.

None the less though… I felt sad… I felt like without this wall of memories no one would ever know who Chuck was. Those that wished they could say goodbye shouldn't have to find his grave and place flowers. Dammit, all they had to do was look at this wall and they would know him inside and out. They wouldn't have to say goodbye! Chuck was lonely and he surrounded himself in these kinds of reminders—this kind of pain. It was as if the bittersweet pictures he took were far more than just things to hang on the wall. It was as if he worshiped them.

I was also sad because this was the kind of family life that I was missing out on. I briefly considered the possibility that wherever my blood mother was today she had a wall of photographs sorting the person she was and the people she loved, then I realized that was completely irrational because my parents had left me in a carboardbox on a street in front of a police station. I had nearly died, being that I was an infant and for a few cold hours that night no one had found me. My mother was a wretched person for doing what she did, or perhaps it was my wretched father that sported such an event. All I knew was that me being abandoned was only the start of loneliness for years to come. Ghosts had pulled me out back from the lowest places in my childhood, being my friend without question, talking to me as I could talk to them. It made me realize that I was different but it also made me feel like I had a favor to return. That's how I ended up in places like this—to talk to the dead who could otherwise not have a voice.

Chuck's wall however, spoke louder than any ghost could imagine, and I knew I was feeling a sure-fire attack on my dignity in thinking that I was at fault for not ever considered this kind of thing. I swallowed awkwardly, thinking that maybe someday I would sport my own wall—only it wouldn't be extended family, and my ghosts would never show up in picture, it would be Falkner and I. But that was alright… since he was my world, my soul, my ghost itself. Not to mention Falkner was a family man anyways. I would have to talk it over with him after this.

"Gengar…" I murmured, turning away from the wall and pushing to the end of the hallway where a sturdy door sat locked. This was obviously the door separating his home from his gym. My faithful ghost slipped between the cracks and not a second later the professional locksmith had it swishing open.

There was that feeling then… the pressure… the strength in a ghost's presence that no one else but me could feel. I shifted, letting it soak my skin, bathing me in the anger, the loss, and the worry that came with being unable to truly live ever again. I would take Chuck's pain if I could… but I was just here to talk.

"Chuck…" I murmured into the large arena, unable to see the ghost. I was on the top floor, separated by rock stairways and rails so that no one slipped on the climb when water made it slippery. Though now it wasn't, since no water had flowed through here in a very long time. Like his house this place had been touched by the cleansing hands of the police.

There was no reply as I made my way down, slowly but surely stopping now and again to listen—and hearing nothing. Chuck was silent… but he was here.

"Chuck!" I called louder this time. "Its leader Morty! I'm here to talk to you!"

Again there was no noise, but I understood why now…

No water gushed from the top of this arena anymore, but Chuck was still beneath the fall, training deep in his mind, too lost in his concentration to hear me. He was a transparent aspiration, faded softly into a careless sloppy dread. I watched for a moment, telling myself that this was a cruelty of death. Stuck in the moment of your death. I flinched, wondering if his murderer had gotten the upper hand while he was training like this.

"Chuck!" I called, watching the man's huge brow twitch, and then his narrow eyes part to reveal two lost pools. He stared up at me for a long moment, unable to cope with what had happened to him, and unable to understand how I was here making eye contact with him. His mouth parted slightly, and he took a double take on air before speaking in a rasp.

"S—so you do… talk to ghosts."

I nodded, trying not to be irritated in the fact that some people still thought I lied about my ability, or made it up. Sad thing was I couldn't prove it until those people were dead and even then some ghosts were in denial. Chuck sat cross legged in dismay as I stood, folding my arms across my chest.

"Chuck… I'm sorry…" I murmured. "I—I'll leave you in peace but I have to know the truth…"

The fighting trainer looked to have lost all his fight. "About?"

I took a deep breath "Who killed you?"

He froze then, coiling up within himself, unable to suppress the emotions that rolled off with my question. Such a simple question that I couldn't imagine he was prepared for it. This was vital though, and his reaction alone was of terror. This meant that whoever killed him KNEW him, and he knew them. Even worse, he didn't want to tell me.

"Chuck… we're trying to avenge you. We can't do that if you don't talk to me… you have to tell me."

"I—it doesn't matter… I'm already gone."

"You're not gone, you're right here in front of me… You haven't left Chuck; you just can't be seen by most people." I insisted.

"I can't tell you."

"It's someone you know…" I assumed. "Chuck I've done this countless times… I can read you like an open book. It's someone you care about right?"

"I don't have to tell you… I—I don't want anything to happen to her."

"Her?" I caught that swiftly. "It's a girl… a woman? You aren't very good at this…"

"It was my fault anyways…"

"You're fault? Chuck I fail to understand why." This wasn't abnormal of course. Most ghosts seemed to think that their deaths were their fault, but I couldn't understand it unless they told me it. I stepped forward, seeing he various stab wounds still embedded into his skin and flesh—the blood was washed away but numerous holes and slits in his skin were there still.

He shook his head at me. "I'm ashamed…"

"And you don't think I have never been ashamed before? Spit it out."

"I—I—

"Who killed you?"

He spluttered, unable to look at me now but desperately wanting to. He was considering his options but the thing was there were none because he was dead. Only I could harm him—with the process of sage and other ghost demolishing things—but that was out of the question. I refused to harm a ghost.

"You have to promise…" Chuck murmured. "Y—you have to… you can't tell anyone."

I hated this part the most… the part where ghosts felt safe with me because they couldn't tell their secrets to anyone else. They all wanted someone that would take what they had to say and just listen… but I wasn't here to listen and I knew this was only the beginning of a line of lies I would have to feed him.

"Of course." I agreed smoothly, wishing that there was a way around this.

Chuck paused, pushing his hands into his face… "Jasmine…She killed me."

My heart stopped, but upon that answer I couldn't say I was shocked—more or less choked that it happened that way. The people you love killing you… what a sick and masochistic way to go. Looking into the eyes of that person that you loved… and more or less Chuck and Jasmine. The daughter he never had but always wanted. I closed my eyes, trying not to look at the holes in his body and know that Jasmine had done that.

"But it was… because…" Chuck stalled. "It was… my fault… I made her do it. I ruined her."

I waited.

"I—I raped her."

…..

"B—but why?" I recoiled in confusion. "You loved her…"

"I loved her mother!"

I realized that this was where the flood gates opened, like the water gushing down with a press of a button in this gym. Chuck was unstable in a sense, yet so powerful and rushing like heavy water—like the ocean outside and the waves lapping at the shore. Chuck would have cried now, if his tear ducts were not also dead like the rest of him. He shook in pain.

"I loved her mother! I cheated on my wife… I loved my wife but I loved Jasmine's mother… my best friend's wife even more. I couldn't stand it… I was sick and disgusting and even when I wanted to be a good person—a good husband I couldn't. I was so in love with that woman—tha—that…" He swallowed hard, regaining himself. "Baoba… the safari warden, that's Jasmine's father… and he didn't go to Kanto to open a new safari zone, he went because he was getting away from me. He knew all along—he just… he reached his limit—

"He knew all along that you loved his wife?" I assumed. "He knew that you were cheating? He knew that HIS wife was cheating?"

Chuck nodded. "T—the only reason he hadn't left earlier was because his wife got pregnant with Jasmine… and… I don't know if Jasmine figured it out or not, but… Boaba isn't her real father…"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to feel for Jasmine who I had assumed went crazy over Falkner, but also knowing that this wasn't Chuck in vain—love made people crazy. Even I was victim of that.

"I'm her father…" Chuck inquired. "That's why Boaba left as soon as he could… not because he didn't love Jasmine, but because he thought—shit, he's such a good man—because he thought that I could raise her well for a change. He was my best friend, he LET me have Jasmine… a—and if he knew what I did to her…"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and I didn't exactly try to make sense of it, but what I had assumed about Jasmine was far more out of reach that what I could have guessed. How long was this going on? Had Jasmine been suffering? Why hadn't she told anyone? I didn't understand but this was suddenly so much bigger than it seemed. Jasmine was wounded, hurt, and now she was a murderer as well… That kind of horrific experience could truly change a person.

"Jasmine in a wreck." I informed, a slight hate growing in my chest. "Chuck you raped your own daughter!?"

"Yes!" He admitted, holding in sobs. "I'm a horrible man… I know… which is why you can't tell anyone what Jasmine has done…I—I know I hurt her… and believe it or not she comes back here to talk about herself. Even though she can't hear me or see me like you do she still talks… She might not know that I'm even here but she comes and sits at the top of that waterfall and she talks…"

"What does she talk about?"

"Everything… what happens at the meetings and how she can't stop this hate growing inside her. She wants to be a good person but she can't. She is too weak… Sh—she plots…"

I felt like someone had taken a sludgehammer to my head.

"She plots about how she is going to kill people… but I never really… I—I don't believe it… but one day she came here and talked about how she killed all her pokemon…"

"She killed her pokemon!?" I held my hand over my mouth as this dark secret tried to settle inside my chest. What was this horrendous chain link of murdering going to lead to next?

"The magnemite first…" Chuck informed… "And then she… she burned her Steelix alive…"

"B—but…" I felt absolutely wretched. This was the reason I had ghost pokemon—because I couldn't take the pain in knowing that they might one day be taken away from me. If I weren't the way I was I would never survive. I was too weak a person when it came to my heart… despite my hard-ass exterior, the inside was so fragile. I fretted over the day Falkner would pass away—how I would kill myself to be a ghost by his side because living without him would be hell. I couldn't touch him if he were a ghost… I couldn't truly love him that way and the same thing applied to my pokemon but with varied reasons. If I lost Gengar and he couldn't fight with me…. If he wasn't there to drink the bleach or steal ibuprofen when I dropped it on the floor, or unlock my front door and occasionally let strangers in, or Arceus forbid make me feel better in instances when I'm feeling down…. I don't know what I would do…

I assumed all pokemon trainers felt the same way about their pokemon… so who was Jasmine to let her mind ruin her heart? She killed her Magnemite and her Steelix… who was next? And more importantly how? How had Jasmine—such a tiny frail girl—managed to burn her pokemon alive?

"She… burned it alive?" I felt my stomach twist in a horrible direction, recalling the time Falkner ranted about seeing Jasmine that night at the—

"The lighthouse…" I huffed. "Jasmine started the lighthouse on fire…"

Chuck was silent, unable to tell me I was right but not disproving it.

"Chuck this is vital!" I snarled. "I—I have to tell Lance!"

"No!" he begged. "It's my fault! Don't ruin her life anymore than I did… sh—she doesn't deserve that…"

"She is dangerous!"

"She's just on the rebound… It will pass!"

"Things like this don't pass." I shook my head… "Chuck I'm sorry… but this has gone too far…"

"Please!" He begged, shoveling his face with his huge hands as invisible tears fell. "Don't do this to her… please… Morty as my last wish?"

"No… Chuck…"

"You promised already… Please. My last wish, just… just keep Jasmine's secret…"

"I—I can't."

His piercing vacant eyes looked up at me, grimacing and teetering back and forth as he begged; wishing nothing worse than the guilt Jasmine lived with on her. How could I do this? How could I not tell Lance about Jasmine? How could I not protect the other gym leaders? But how could I go against my every belief and defile a ghost's last wish?

I sauntered up, having gotten all the information I needed and more. This complex story was at a standstill now and that was it… that was all I could manage until I cleared my head. This gym felt heavy and utterly dead inside, with or without the ghost presence I had to get out of here.

"Please!" Chuck begged one more time.

I shook my head. "I—I have to think this through… I'm sorry… but… I can't promise you anything." I hung my head. "Now… tell me where your pokemon are? You don't want them in their balls forever right?"

Chuck looked up at me, his eyes heavy and lost looking. "…In my…" he shook his head as if to remember. "My drawer in my bedroom… You will have to unlock it. But please… Morty—

I turned, cutting him off shortly and moving to go up the slick rocky path to the upper half of his gym again. I headed for the entryway to his door, passing by Gengar who held it open waiting for me, his pale yellow eyes dull in worry. I held my finger out to him, dipping my head in appreciation and waiting for his tiny hand to solidify and take my finger.

"Thanks…" I murmured to my partner as Chuck begged in wails from below, baying for an answer because there was nothing else he could do. His death was his fault… it was karma for the acts he had done, and he accepted that. But what he could not accept was that he had turned his own daughter into a killer, his best friend had run away from him in despair, and the two women he loved had abandoned him. This was what I meant when I said that every ghost had a story to tell, and as I passed the same hallway with his wall of pictures on it, I didn't stop, but rather ran from the pain in knowing that now it was my turn.

I had to make a decision now.


	74. Chapter 74

~Morty~

"Yeah… I'm sorry sweetheart… I—I've got to repot back to Lance tonight… I won't be home for a while." I murmured with my eyes half lidded against the sound of Falkner's slightly disappointed and utterly bored voice.

"You sound really worn out, you're sure you're ok?" the bird trainer asked me. "Do you want me to go to your house?"

I sighed, that would be ideal considering I had plenty of ghost-dilemmas for today, and Walter Hayato's snide comments didn't appeal to me in the slightest, but of course I had never given Falkner a real key to my house because Gengar always unlocked the door for him. Too bad the locksmith pokemon was here with me now.

"I'll come to your house." I told him quietly, leaning against the railing of the boat that was trolling into the docks of Olivine now. "And do me a favor… Falkner if you can, call Gold and ask him if he wants a Poliwrath… Chuck's pokemon was still left in its ball." I had just left Cianwood with little knowledge on what to do next, but I figured I might as well wing it while I could.

Chuck begged me not to give away his daughter's secrets, but I couldn't let the other gym leaders suffer if she did something to them. After all Chuck said himself he heard her talk about plotting in his gym.

"Sure." Falkner agreed smoothly. "How did it go? Did you find out who killed him?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah… but I can't tell anyone before Lance… don't worry, you will find out soon."

I could feel Falkner's anxiety through the phone. "Alright… I love you."

"Love you sweetheart." I closed my eyes, wishing he was here so that I could take his face between my hands and kiss him. Any short length of time away from each other started to feel like a lifetime lately, and it was wearing on me now, making me feel tired and… surprisingly lonely. "I'll be home soon."

The phone hung up swiftly as we said goodbye and the boat horn sounded, stating that we had arrived. I tipped the people around the docks a heavy amount considering that it was late and I was their only passenger, and slowly started making my way through the vacant streets of Olivine as everyone was now settling into their homes for the night. It was still too cold to be out on the beach after the sun went down, and with the distant memory of the lighthouse burning down I couldn't imagine that this was a very comforting place to be anyways. I could see in the distance the charred and brutal structure that had collapsed and fell solidly in the ocean waves, now poking up around the tiny island that was only connected by a narrow land bridge to shore. My memory came back to me being here, and I remembered the way Gold and Silver and Falkner had sat huddled together the night that it all happened.

The night Jasmine killed her pokemon…

I shivered at the thought of a helpless pokemon being burned alive and initially crushed under the lighthouse. It made my stomach twist uncomfortably as well. What was Jasmine capable of? If she was so ruthless, who was her next victim?

I tried not to consider the possibilities as I walked stiffly down the main street, heading in the direction of Jasmine's gym because there was only one thing I could think of to do. I sighed, stepping up her porch and feeling cold. Was she even home? What was she going to think seeing me here?

Gently my knuckles rapped on the beach carved door of the steel gym leader's run down gym, my heart taking a step back as my feet did to wait for the unexpected girl to come. I waited, rerunning the conversation with Chuck through my head and wishing it would stop—wishing it would just go away because this was now harder than I ever thought possible.

I waited, letting all the sadness and the pity fly away because this was not the man I intended to be tonight. Chuck was at fault for raping Jasmine, but Jasmine was at fault for murdering innocent pokemon and trying to harm others. No one was innocent here. This was a matter of having internal strength now, and if you ask me Chuck and Jasmine have an equal amount of nothing of it. I glanced back at that burned lighthouse in the distance and slammed my hand down on the door hard this time, banging loudly because she had to be home—she had to.

"Go away!" A voice from the inside snarled back at me.

I stopped all together, gritting my teeth and signaling to Gengar. He nodded once, saluting me swiftly before diving under the door and vanishing. There was a faint squeal from the other side as Jasmine watched her lock slick to the left. Not a moment later I turned the knob and swung it open, standing face to face with the petite murderer.

"Get out!" She begged, her frail body shaking with hate. "I—I'll report you! I'll get you kicked out of the league!"

A snarl rose in the back of my throat as I raised a hand to point at her, bending down and looking her in the eyes. She flinched away from me as I spoke.

"I know what you did…" I hissed. "I know that you killed Chuck… and I know that you killed your pokemon and you started the lighthouse on fire. Jasmine… you can stop pretending."

She turned in a whir, her wiry, unwashed dust colored hair slapping me in the face as she hurdled back, slipping on her pale tile floor and scrambling away, towards the staircase that lead to a second story in this narrow home.

"What are you running from, Jasmine?" I slammed the front door behind me and began to follow her, slower than I intended. From the outside of her gym I recall the second floor didn't have any windows, so she wouldn't be escaping of course. "JASMINE!" I yelled as I began up the stairs. "You can't keep running!"

"You fucking monster!" She threw back at me as she disappeared into the upper half, leaving the stairs behind. She hadn't the right to call me a monster, she was the monster here, and running from that only made her more of one.

"Gengar… cut the phone lines." I insisted, knowing that her first instinct would be to call the police—or worse—call Lance. If Lance were to find out what I was doing here with Jasmine before telling him what I know he really would kick me out of the league. "Now."

The black shadow crept through the floorboards into her basement where an electrical box could be found. I took the stairs two at a time, sweeping up as the sound of electricity purred from below.

"GET OUT!" Jasmine demanded of me, her voice hoarse and lost.

The lights went out suddenly causing Jasmine to whimper from above, unable to call for help and unable to escape now that she trapped herself on the second floor. My feet made the staircase moan as I climbed, hand swishing against the rail and Gengar beside me every step of the way now that the power was out. Silent as ever but his eyes lighting the path like headlights the shadow walked with me, side by side like we had always been. I remembered vaguely a long time ago, referring to Gengar as not so much my friend, and not exactly my partner, but more or less a person who could benefit from me and vice versa. This was the opposite now… Gengar meant more to me than I imagined he could have. I appreciated him to know end.

From outside the first crack of thunder rolled, signaling that the earlier looming storm had hit. Rain began to pour, pelting the side of the windowless house. The upstairs was a single large room, but it was so full of stuff—papers and boxes and old wrappers—that I couldn't see the floor. There was dirty clothes scattered about, and a rancid smell that made my throat ache—smelt like chemicals, the same bleach and other odd thing that was used in Chuck's home to hide the smell of death that seemed to never leave. So not only was Jasmine anorexic and psycho, but she was now a hoarder as well.

I stepped forward, glancing around in the silence and waiting. "Jasmine… I know what happened to you… And… I—

Something hit me then, sharp and twisted and thrusting straight into my shoulder making me howl in agony. The wind was knocked out of me as starbursts of white beyond my eyes excited by pain had me tumbling. The rug of the second story met my hands as I slipped down, smothered in the smell of body odor and bad breath. A wave of greasy hair sweeping my face and a screech, full of angst and ready to kill as Jasmine pinned me with her non-existent body weight. She was frail, but that didn't mean she wasn't deadly.

Her cries went from empowered to appalled as Gengar engulfed her, ripping her fragile body away from me and taking the knife from my shoulder with them. It twisted one last time, ripping the flesh one way from the rest until a deep X shape oozed from the deep within me, radiating heat and throbbing. IT was as if someone had cut a whole and allowed the beat of my heart to come out like a bass. Dizziness swam like the smell of blood. My lazy hands, my eyes lolling and then finding themselves again to be face down in the trash covered carpet while I scrambled to get up, ache like a scorching flame nipping throughout my veins. I snarled in response, shaking but managing from the dull stab as Gengar pinned the trainer, his flitting black body grown huge and his yellow eyes sparking while a forked tongue dripped poison onto the girl who flailed below him, begging for the acid substance to stop burning shallow holes in her skin. Ghosts were powerful… I didn't know how many times had I tried to warn people of that.

Gengar bared his hundred and some dagger teeth, hissing a low, startling screech as the chestnut eyed girl gasped and panted, her blood covered hand still clutching the dull—and to my regard—rusty dinner knife that she pierced into my shoulder, just below my collar bone.

"Get… out…" She whimpered, looking past my pokemon and at me as I stood, holding my shoulder only to drop to my knees at her level again.

"I—I know… Chuck raped you. I know that he loved your mother. I know that you killed him for revenge and that you go back there and confess because you're guilty. I know Jasmine! I KNOW!" My voice erupted to a strange high. " I KNOW YOU'RE SO WEAK THAT YOU CANT OVERCOME THIS PAIN!"

She whimpered, shrinking into herself as tears slithered down her dirty, twisted face. Would she ever sport the same kind of cheerful, happy grin she did before all this happened? I doubted it… and with a harsh snatch I retrieved the knife from her shoulder. My left arm was tingling now, seeing as though all the blood that tried to travel down only spilled out the wound. I ignored it though, thinking that this pain could fuel my hate if only for a moment. I held Jasmine's weapon before me as Gengar held the girl down, hand shaking because the blood dripped and burned my fingers.

"You burnt a lighthouse… you killed innocent pokemon… You tried to pin your own murder on ME." I curled the knife around in my fist, holding the handle and drawing it back. Jasmine gasped, trying to writhe away and thunder moaned high above the clouds, too far to touch base with the earth in the earliest days of this early spring weather. I could hear rain bombarding the side of her house however, and the distant presence of a ghost lingered, fueling me, urging me on. It was one of the magnemite she killed, and from the corner of my I could see the mangled, unscrewed and blasted to pieces body of a pokemon who was nothing but loyal. Its single eye encouraged me, though showing no emotion or sign of thought process. It was just there as a reminder.

I drew the knife back, gritting my teeth and then slamming it forward. Jasmine howled, screaming for mercy, but stopped only as I thrust the blade deep into her floor, not more than an inch beside her forehead.

"Chuck will never forgive himself for what he did to you." I whispered. "And I'll never forgive you for what you tried to do to me… or for what you did to those innocent pokemon. Your ifather/i begged me not to tell your secret though… but I can't not do that… So… this is what I'm going to do."

I waited, watching as her near lifeless eyes blinked away from the blood that dripped from my shoulder onto her neck and cheeks as I hovered.

"I'm going to give one day, Jasmine, twenty-four hours! That's it! To get the hell out of here. And tomorrow night at this time… I'm going to call Lance, and I'm going to tell him everything and he will believe me."

"Y—you bastard." She sobbed.

"You can either run away, Jasmine, so far that none of us will ever find you… or you can stay and expect prison for life, but either way you're not winning. You're a killer and you have to live with that."

"I—I hate you… it's all your fault!"

I shook my head, still gritting my teeth from the blazing pain in my shoulder, but managing to stand. I pushed my right hand to the jagged knife hole and tried to put pressure on the wound, but failing miserably.

"Twenty-four hours Jasmine… You have twenty-four hours." I stumbled off, towards the staircase as pain made my head swim—I hoped I would make it down the stairs. "Come on Gengar…"

….

~Falkner~

"What the hell happened!?" I gasped as Morty rasped from the other end of the phone. I had tried to go to sleep but found that his tone while talking to me earlier had been too much to bear. He had sounded confused and kind of regretful, so I couldn't relax and ended up staying awake watching stupid movies that I never realized were so bad until Zephyr shit on the television to get his point across. I scolded the bird and sent him outside with his mother for an hour, which had been only a little while ago— it was roughly one in the morning now.

"I—I just… I got attacked ok? I'm in Olivine and I won't make it home tonight… so—

"I'm coming, stay there!" I insisted, running to the coat closet by the front door and throwing it open to grab the first thing I saw—my father's flight jacket which I hadn't worn in a while. "Morty are you ok? Are you going to the hospital? Where are you hurt?"

He coughed tiredly. "It's just a shallow wound… But bring your medical shit… you know how to give stitches right?"

"If you need stitches go to the hospital!" I demanded, though racing back to the kitchen to get the advanced first aid kit that my father had given me a long time ago. I wasn't squeamish with wounds, and I knew how to treat simply things—including stitches—but that didn't mean Morty shouldn't be stubborn and not go to the hospital. "I swear to Arcues Morty! Don't be stupid!"

"It's not that ba—

"Morty!"

"God dammit! Falkner stop yelling at me, just hurry up!"

"I'm on my way!" I blew through the front door like TNT, locking it swiftly behind me and yelling for Pride, who was surely asleep somewhere in a tree or in the nesting boxes. "Be careful Morty. Please?"

"I'll be fine." He insisted not a moment before the big black bird showed up, fluffing his ruffled feathers and shifting upright. He stretched his wings luxuriously and then screeched lowly at me.

"I love you… I'll be there soon." I hung up, jumping on my bird and shifting the first aid kit under my jacket so that it wouldn't fall. I buttoned it up tight and gripped Pride's shoulders, swallowing harshly.

Morty… the one person I loved as much as these birds, the one person that could fill that inevitable loneliness in my heart. I loved him so much. Shit.

iPlease be ok/i


	75. Chapter 75

~Jasmine~

I sat in the seat of a plane, wondering, waiting for the world to pass me by because really there was nothing else I could do. I had given up everything-well forced to, it wasn't as if I did so by choice. But I came to terms with the fact that this was my everlasting fate. I would forever be running-and yet the moment I left Johto's territory it seemed I had settled. A fire in my heart had burnt out above the salty ocean waves that lapped far below us. A baby cried in the seat next to me, a husband was on his way back to fighting a war in Unova, and not one spec of it bothered me.

Morty had been very clear when he said he would give me a choice... and though I hated that vile man with all my heart... I realized that I was grateful to him. I owed him acceptance at least, the choice he had given me was a gift-a cold hearted gift- and I was eager to accept despite how foolish it made me look. When I killed Chuck, my Uncle, my FATHER, I should have known that Morty would learn the truth-I shouldn't have been so ignorant as to think that he was lying about his abilities. No one makes up horrible things such as seeing ghosts-except maybe me who pinned a murder on someone who sees ghosts. The thing is... I knew I was a horrible person... I knew it and I was willing to give that up.

Ever since my life changed that day in late summer last year... the day Falkner became one of us, my world had slowly started to strip away piece by piece, revealing the true things before me that were once so cookie cut I couldn't stand it. Training? Forget about it; I had Falkner on my mind. Battles? Why bother? Falkner and I could go to lunch instead. All the wild fantasies of love and first sight coming after me-all those things I could have said or done to make it work. I could have been less jealous and more understanding, but at the time I was too blind to realize what I had been doing in the first place. I didn't know until later that I had been utterly jealous and hard to handle-saving every text message and re-reading it day after day after day because what else did I have? My father wasn't around to tell me I was a princess and that boys were stupid, Whitney only encouraged me to push harder, and sooner or later Morty interrupted my system, my perfect_clockwork_. I was alone from the beginning, really...

And to make things worse, I had watched the way Falkner moved around Morty... I had seen the way his eyes would dart across the room the moment he ghost trainer would interrupt us-usually late at meetings. I had seen the way he hesitantly grabbed that unruly pidgey from the ghost trainer's head the first time they met-the way his hands lingers in case the pokemon decided to attack. The time the shipping train rolled into Ecruteak and delivered a wild bird to Falkner and an ugly but powerful pokemon to Chuck. I had been there, I saw the way Falkner's eyes lit up when Morty was there. And even more powerfully I had seen the way Morty looked at him-like he wanted to suck the living daylight out of his soul.

There were two things I didn't understand in this world, how my life had gone to shit so fast, and _lust_. I wanted to be cradled, I wanted to be held like I was the only precious parcel left in the world and dropping me would be fatal. Maybe this was something that came with me being so small, or maybe it was because I was a hopeless romantic when it came to fluff. Either way I knew I wanted to be taken care of, I was never going to "wear the pants" essentially. So when I found that Falkner was also in my position, that he was rather the "uke" of their relationship, I was mortified. Men were supposed to be the caretakers of the caretakers (being women), so why had this happened and messed that all up? The only obvious answer was lust. Later Morty showed up with love bites on his neck and Falkner had blushed and I knew all hope was lost. So Falkner COULD be dominant, but he was still gay? Why?

Lust.

Such a dirty word.

I wondered if Falkner and Morty had anything else besides lust, since it was so terribly displayed throughout their sexual interactions and the aftermath of.

Glancing out the window again I admit to myself that there was more to Morty and Falkner than just lust... I could go on and on wondering why or how, but the truth was that I had seen it firsthand. As of last night... I stared out my front porch window while Morty bled on the street corner in the pouring rain, swaying softly while holding his shoulder-the wound I inflicted on him. It was moments after he gave me my choice, but I had sat there for an hour watching him, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for that ghost to get up and flit away into translucency. I was broken, but at the moment it had seemed Morty was far more than broken. He was shattered. So I waited, watching him and thinking about how easy it would have been to take another shot at him. I may not have been able to kill him, but what other option did I have?

The scariest part about watching Morty was feeling my hate growing... because I didn't think it could get any bigger but it did. It swelled in my chest through tears as I watched, wishing I had the strength to kill him because that was my ultimate goal-to get rid of all the lust in the world. Lust that had hurt me so much I would never be the same.

And then Falkner had shown up, swooping in on his black predator bird and flying into Morty's arms. I had watched in wonder, expected lust but finding that the two of them kissed in the rain rather passionately. Boy and boy, man and man, male and male, it suddenly made no difference in my mind because Falkner was not "gay" he was in love. Morty was not gay nor in "lust", but he was in love. The whole fucking world had been in love without me this whole time and I didn't even notice. I deflated after that, admitting defeat as Falkner's weak cries reached me through the crack in my front door. Morty was wounded and yet HE had comforted the bird trainer, telling him that things would be ok and that it wasn't all that bad.

Morty was a tough ass on the outside, but I had witnessed something remarkable last night when he revealed the softer inner side of him that claimed passion, romance, and love. _Love_.

I didn't know what love was... I realized all I knew of was lust. The fingers that had touched my body where not ones that loved me like the sweet way Falkner and Morty did each other. The fingers that had touched me where of lust-and not even for me. For my mother who was so far gone that Chuck had gone to the next best thing in hopes to fill the hole. His own daughter.

Well I refused to be his daughter anymore. I was Boaba's daughter, the great safari warden of Johto and now Kanto. I always would be, blood or not that man had given me everything. He had destroyed part of it in the end, but he had given it to me in the first place so how could I regret that?

Misery was in my heart for what I would do to him-running away just like his true wife had. I may not have cheated on him with his best friend, but I certainly would leave a scar far deeper than that in his heart. We would be scarred together... apart but still together. I wished I could look my father in the eyes and see him once again. I wish I could explain to him why I hadn't returned his calls in months. I wish I could tell him that I was happy and that the gym was doing well. I wished I could lie to him so that at the very least he wouldn't worry. But I couldn't... and I would never be able to because I was leaving for good. Johto was no longer the home I once knew it as... I was going far away, running from the life I once had because it was better than LEAVING the life I once had.

This plane was on its way to Sunnyshore City in Sinnoh... the only place far enough away that still had a sandy beach and lapping ocean waves.

The only thing, I was convinced, that gave me any peace of mind anymore.

...

~Falkner~

I traced the angry stitches on Morty's collar bone with feather light fingers, finally quieted down a day later after the accident and finally reaching Ecruteak together. We lay in Morty's enormous bed now, awaiting the clock because in just a little bit we would have to start making our way to the indigo plateau to tell Lance and the other gym leaders who was the killer of Chuck's murder. And I knew-with great disregard now-who it was myself. Morty had tried to lie at first, and tell me that Chuck had only given him a name and that it was on the simple journey back home did he get "attacked". But I wasn't stupid and my franticness had gotten the best of him. He told me the truth... every painful piece of it.

Chuck being Jasmine's daughter, and Jasmine being raped, and starting the lighthouse on fire. Morty and I spent the night in a hotel room talking about it while he swallowed painkillers like no tomorrow-still insisting that he would NOT go to hospital (because they were infested with ghosts and he couldn't handle it). I couldn't believe though, of all things, he convinced me that it was not right to go after Jasmine again. She had STABBED him, for Arceus sake there was nothing I wanted more than to get justice for that, and everything else she had ever done, but the act of the matter was that Morty had it set in stone that this was a ghost's wish-a respectable thing to do, and I couldn't act because he wouldn't let me take any blame if this secret were to get out. I was furious at Morty for being so stupid and letting Jasmine get away... but in all honestly what kind of letting off easy was that? I knew Jasmine lost everything, I knew she was damaged beyond repair; I knew that this was her end regardless of where she was. I just hoped no one else got hurt because of her...

"Are you still mad at me?" Morty whispered, pushing my hair out of my face and kissing my sweaty forehead-he was smothering me with love because he knew that I was pissed.

I pouted lightly, unable to look away from the jagged, horrible lines that I had stitched into him. I really wasn't as good with it as I thought I was, even though he insisted that it was perfect and it wouldn't open up again. I knew he was just kissing ass.

"Of course." I pressed my lips just below his wound, into the hot skin of his bare chest. "I cant believe I almost lost you."

"You didn't almost lose me..." Morty insisted.

"Jasmine stabbed Chuck to death... if she could kill him what makes you think she couldn't kill you?"

"Gengar was there." He rubbed my back in long luxurious circles, pulling me up and laying me atop him. "Don't feel bad... No-Falkner sweetheart, stop."

I sniffed away the oncoming tears and hid my face into him, twisting my hands forward until our fingers were twined. I couldn't stand it-I couldn't lose him. The thought alone made me feel like I was going to cry. I wouldn't go on without Morty in my life, not ever.

"I love you." Morty whispered. "What else do you want me to say?"

"That you will never do something so stupid again." I hiccupped softly, pulling my arms up and wrapping them around his neck.

"I will never do something so stupid again." Morty repeated, rubbing the small of my back again. He tipped my head back so that I was looking at him with moist eyes. "Look at you... fuck Falkner, you're so damn cute. Have I ever told you I love your eyes..."

I shoved his softly with a sad laugh. "Stop sucking ass Morty, it's not working."

"Mmmn... then let me suck your lips." He pushed forward, knotting his hand in the back of my hair as I did his. He pulled me forward, grazing the length of my lips with his and then slowly, slipping his tongue past the soft lower expanse of my lip.

My phone started vibrating then, deep within my pocket to wear it nearly sparked a sudden interest in my dick-but stopped only when I remembered the time Morty shoved my phone down my pants and it was Jasmine who called a total of sixteen times wondering where I was and what I was doing-because Morty had told her at the time we were having sex or something.

I shuffled awkwardly, still kissing Morty but trying to pluck the phone from my pocket. I hit the answer button and put it up to my ear with a short huff, finally dislodging from the ghost trainer only to hear him moan softly.

"Hello?" I asked, trying to sound like my heart wasn't racing.

"I will shove it up your ass this time." Morty insisted, lazily trying to grip the thing as I rolled away from him and accidentally kneed him in the crotch. He whimpered shortly, gripping the sensitive area and throwing a piercing glance at the phone.

"Yo, Falkner!" it was Gold's excited voice on the line. "I was just calling to tell you that I'm going to battling the champion in two days. And it's such a big thing I guess they are putting it on live TV-I am awesome like that you kn-oh! Ow! Silver let go!"

I snickered softly. "That's great Go-

"Hey Falkner!" Silver's voice chimed lovingly, having stolen the phone from his boyfriend. "You shouldn't watch Gold on TV though, you should come to the indigo Platuea and wait with me... they can't let anyone into the elite four arenas but afterwards you can be there to congratulate Gold."

"If he wins..." Morty muttered from next to me, able to hear the conversation clearly with Silver's excited voice.

"Sure Silv, me and Morty will be there." I told my redheaded best friend. "What time is it at?"

Gold snatched the phone back now. "I start battling the first elite four member at noon, so be there then!"

"Alright." I allowed.

"Thanks bro, oh and thanks again for that good luck lingerie picture!"

"You're welcome." I rolled my eyes as he hung up too soon.

Morty swatted the phone out of my hand instantly, turning me over and pinning me. "You sent Gold a lingerie picture but you didn't send it to me?"

I laughed. "It was of Silver not me... we hung out the other day... and I got him to try on a butterfree lingerie outfit."

Morty scowled, trying not to act like he wanted it anyways, even if it wasn't me, but not wanting me to be mad if he asked for it. I laughed weakly, forgetting for the moment that I was mad at him.

"Do you want me to send it to you?"

Morty leant it softly, placing a kiss to the tip of my nose. "Of course."

...

"Jasmine..." Whitney covered her mouth with a hand, unable to put the truth into order but knowing that this indeed was the truth and nothing but the truth. Morty was the kind of person that you didn't NOT believe, mostly because when he was lying it came out all wrong and he tended to push it down your throat. Not that he was a bad liar or anything, he was just a pushy liar, whereas with the truth he would let it stir in your brain until it made sense.

"I KNEW IT WAS THAT BETCH!" Clair slammed her hands down on the meeting room table, making us all jump in unison. However we all knew that there was no real reason as to why Clair would know-she was just being a snide in saying that she knew. She really had no clue at all.

"Clair. Don't even start." Lance insisted beside the rest of the quiet room. He looked unsure himself, but not ignorant as he turned back to Morty, who was standing, one hand on his sore shoulder as he spoke.

"Jasmine was in denial... sadly enough to say, because of me and Falkner. It was no surprise when we got together, how upset and angry Jasmine was, am I right?"

The room agreed solidly, nodding their heads either in full understanding or in confusion but agreeing because as I said before-there was just no denying Morty.

"This was bad timing I assume; her heart was breaking, but it also when her "uncle", Chuck, raped her for the first time..."

Silent gasps rang out, and it was all I could not to drown in the awkward. Whitney seemed to look even more guilty at this-not because she knew this happened to her "best friend", but because she HADNT. I took Morty's hand gently in my fingertips, squeezing securely. Was he in pain? He looked like it...

"You see, Chuck isn't Jasmine's Uncle, he is actually her father-which makes his rape even worse-but... the reason he raped her was because he was heartbroken over losing her mother. Jasmine's mother-

Pryce cleared his throat in knowing, offering a hand to explain. He after all, had been there for this part of the story. We waited as he stood, his rickety old bones creaking loudly.

"Chuck was in love with Boaba's wife, the safari warden, I'm sure you have all heard of him." He folded his hands onto of his signature cane. "And she got pregnant with Chuck's baby because she was a cheating whore. That baby grew to be Jasmine-I was also quite close to Boaba so I know the struggles he went through in raising a child that was not his by blood... since Jasmine's mother ran off. And he never wanted Jasmine to know the truth, so I never said anything... but of course after Boaba left the region Chuck saw his chance to take back what was hi-

"No." Morty interrupted. "Excuse me, Pryce but Boaba left Jasmine to Chuck. He trusted him as his best friend to take care of his-both of their daughter."

"Are you insinuating that Chuck and Boaba were gay for each other?" Pryce chuckled darkly.

Morty stiffened. That was NOT what he was insinuating, but it wasn't as if it didn't make sense. They were best friends, they both loved the same woman that cheated and ran out on them, and they both wanted to raise a daughter despite it not being theirs. No one could claim Jasmine without the mother there... and Boaba had forgiven his best friend, Chuck, for being his wife's lover. So maybe Boaba really loved Chuck instead? It was a long shot... but... well that was one secret we would never know the truth in.

"I didn't think so." Pryce was in his own kind of denial by the sound of it. "Boaba did not give Jasmine over to Chuck... I believe that Chuck was the reason Boaba left-was it not Chuck who got Jasmine into the pokemon league union?"

Nods of agreement. Even though I wasn't around at the time, it was no secret that Chuck had helped clear the space for a gym right across the bay from him...

"I think it was Chuck's plan to get Jasmine her own gym to take care of so that Boaba could leave and he would have Jasmine to himself."

"That's irrelevant." Lance finally spoke up. This was an argument that could potentially go on forever.

"I agree, the point is that Boaba wasn't there and Chuck raped Jasmine." Morty ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Jasmine was corrupt, she couldn't take it, and she wanted revenge... that's why she killed Chuck."

Lance looked like he was extremely worn from this alone, and no one had the strength to object. "Jasmine knew you were going to talk to Chuck's ghost... of course she wouldn't show up at today's meeting." He added.

"Now now!" Bugsy finally had the nerve to say something. "Why would Chuck rape his daughter-even if it was because he loved Boaba-I-I mean Boaba's wife?"

"Shut the fack up!" Clair smacked him hard, making his stiff purple hair stick up awkwardly.

"Clair!"

"Lance, you know it's true."

The three sighed in unison. Bugsy may not want to believe that his best friend and drinking buddy was a rapist, but he had to admit defeat somewhere. Besides, the pieces all fit too well.

"We're not all in agreement then?" Lance asked, facing Bugsy. "If you honestly think that this isn't what really happened it's ok, Bug's we will keep looking."

Bugsy fidgeted, looking rather constipated and pregnant with the facts before him. He had to hide fic face for a long moment, while Whitney sniveled at his side, though petting his hair to comfort the bug trainer. Eventually he shook his head.

"No you're all right..." Bugsy coughed away his tears. "It's just... I wish I didn't have to think of Chuck like this now..."

"You miss your friend, that's ok." Pryce, who was normally ice cold and not compassionate at all, murmured. "Bugsy we all miss the way Chuck used to be."

"But it was fake..."

"Yeah... but sometimes fake is better-easier-than the truth." Lance told him. "Thank you Bugsy... we can file a report now and bring Jasmine in for questioning and most likely arrest."

"So we can go now then?" Clair whined.

"Well... doesn't anyone just want to sit and talk?" Lance sighed heavily, seeing at thought the upset room looked around at each other. No one spoke or said anything, as if this experience had made us all weary of one another. Who to trust or who not to trust. Jasmine and Chuck had made it an impossible task to manage-but I felt otherwise.

For the first time in a long time I asked myself what my father would do in a situation like this, and it didn't take long at all to know the answer. I took a deep breath before anyone had the chance to get up and walk away.

"I do..." I said, looking up at Lance, who eyes sparkled greatfeully back at me. Morty looked down, a sad smile playing at his lips as he moved to sit, tightening his hand on mine and catching a kiss on my head as he did so.

"Me too." Whitney allowed.

At this Pryce nodded in approval, and even Lance SAT down for once, taking a seat as one of us, rather than a shitty leader trying to control us. Bugsy nodded, breathing harshly but letting a laugh escape his lips.

"Let's just talk..." He whispered. "Not about murder or killing or anything... let's just... talk."

Clair deflated back into her chair, rolling her eyes and kicking her leather boots up onto the table. "Alright you've got me...Let's get this over with."

Lance cast her a gentle, long look of happiness as she folded her arms, trying not to look amused because really this was what I should be.

For the first time in a long time the gym leaders could feel like a family together.


	76. Chapter 76

~Falkner~

"He'll be fine!" I assured the frantic redhead at my side, who was holding my hand so tightly I actually lost circulation of blood to my pinky finger. Not to mention Zephyr was antsy in my lap, wanting to leave as the last battle—Gold's final step to becoming champion—took place in the room beyond the huge golden doors in the back of the Indigo Plateau. Morty was watching the screen intently, murmuring things of approval as Gold called out a rather well trainer mismagius—none of us knew that Gold had a ghost pokemon except Silver, so it was a pleasant surprise. Clair sat behind us, her feet kicked up on coffee table in this waiting room with her hands folded tightly across her stomach. She would never admit it but she was actually quite worried—or maybe excited, since the look showed the same on her face. Either was she was waiting in great anticipation, silent for once, to see if her cousin could pull out a win against the strongest trainer in Johto—Gold Hibiki.

"I just—ah!" Silver clawed at his hair, frantically pushing it back and out of his face as if it were blocking his view from the live television broadcast going on. The battle was being shown all across the region at the moment, but even I had to admit it wasn't fair considering all of us had gathered to be here in wanting to witness the real thing. Lance wouldn't even allow gym leaders to be in the elite four territory though, and certainly not the champions den.

"Another fucking dragonite?" Morty snorted as Lance called out his second to last pokemon before Gold, who was rocking the battlefield with a Mamoswine. I didn't exactly appreciate the huge, ungraceful and smelly brute of a pokemon, but I couldn't deny that it was an excellent attribute to his team. The thing was a tank with wicked ice attacks as well as shattering ground attacks—Pryce was quite proud considering that he himself had never raised a Mamoswine.

Morty was being nitpicky about everything though, he wanted to see more of that Mismagius that Gold returned in favor of the enormous Mamoswine. He was also getting impatient with Lance's choice of Dragonite after Dragonite after Dragonite. They may be strong and have a wide range of attacks, but Gold actually looked as though he was getting bored of it all.

"I won't let my Dragonair evolve…" Clair shook her head at the screen. "Those dragonites have nothing appealing about them at all."

"I think it's kinda cute…" Bugsy, who was actually fighting falling asleep, raised his head from Whitney's shoulder on the larger couch a little ways off. No one knew for sure of the bug and normal trainers were together or just good friends, but the look on both their faces revealed that they needn't say and we needn't ask—to my disappointment. It would be nice to have relationship drama directed elsewhere for once, rather than at me and Morty.

"You also think that caterpies are cute." Morty slumped against my side with a sigh. "Gold is winning right now right?"

"Shhh!" Silver waved the ghost trainer off, sitting on the edge of his seat. He squeezed my hand tighter as his Mamoswine landed a devastating blow to the dragonite—with a brilliant rock attack if I might add—and watched it fall to the ground.

"Last one!" I shook Silver gently. "Calm down, Silv. Gold is in the home stretch now."

Silver fanned himself. "Is it hot in here or is it me?"

"It's you honey."

"Watch it." Morty pinched me, his brow creasing together with jealousy. I blew him a kiss playfully, not quite understanding what he was so jealous about—Silver could be just as much his best friend as mine, but Morty didn't put forth any more than a casual amount of effort to do so.

"Jealous." I ruffled Morty's hair as he shifted down—half laying and half sitting in his chair so that his head was in my lap. Zephyr tweeted angrily for being shoved out of his spot, but didn't dare peck Morty—the ghost trainer would make him suffer a wrath. I flinched when the stuck-up bird turned and took his anger out on me, smacking that stubby beak into the hard part of my wrist where he bone was closest to the skin.

"Stop it." I flicked his tail inwardly, looking back up at the screen to see that Lance had called out his last and final pokemon—a gyrados. Strangely enough it brought back memories of the lake of rage event, and I couldn't help but wonder if Lance had gotten this pokemon from there at some point. I wouldn't know because I had been passed out at the time, but it was still familiar.

"What does Gold have up his sleeve this time?" Whitney wondered quietly. "Lance's gyrados is absolutely feral."

We all listening intently on the screen, trying to hear past the bad quality to the sound of Gold's next choice.

iAmphy!/i The trainer ordered forward, throwing a pokeball that flashed a lovely pink when it opened.

I glanced at Silver in awe, shocked to see the full-grown and sleek pokemon that had been abandoned at the lighthouse and left to die. The redhead grinned back at me in knowing. No one was expecting that kind of turn around, and especially not like this. Amphy was still on the slender side, but its ribs were no longer visible on its sides, and its clumsy hoofed feet were not a problem on the damaged tiled floor of the stadium. It was far faster than I imagined it could be, and if that were me battling it I knew I would lose. The sickly pokemon's tail was blazing with light now—a light that could have once guided many ships to shore.

"What did Gold do to cure it?" Whitney gaped as the rather small electric type faced off against the water dragon.

Silver shrugged. "Nothing… the pokemon just… after it got out of the lighthouse it got better… We think it just needed to be able to travel and grow—a lighthouse is no place for a pokemon to spend its life alone."

"That's true." I agreed. "And Gold is the perfect trainer for him."

"That Ampharos loves Gold to death." Silver sighed. "You should see the way it clings to him when they aren't battling."

"It better watch out for Gyrados's ice attacks." Morty chirped, slipping his hand up the back of my shirt and rubbing smooth circles.

"That gyrados is hardly trained." Clair punched a pillow couch next to her in frustration.

"Clair I'm surprised… I would think you would want Lance to lose." I asked.

"I do!" She lied, punching the pillow again harder as the battle rang out—news reporters howling with excitement and people calling in leaving comments that flitted against the bottom of the screen. The whole of Johto was rooting for Gold it seemed, which was understandable of course. Gold Hibiki had done far more for this region than any other trainer had. He was always there when Team Rocket truck. He saved the lighthouse pokemon. And he flawlessly beat all eight gym leaders AND elite four members.

Speaking of which the four disappointed trainers were huddled together in the far end of the room, watching on a laptop screen while whispering hurried things to each other. Will was the loudest and I could only just catch him saying things like "call Gold's mother" and "Professor Oak needs to know", which lead me to believe they didn't doubt Gold's abilities. They knew he would win.

We all knew Gold would win.

"No!" Silver gasped, nearly launching himself out of his seat as the Ampharos on the screen took a blow like Morty warned of—and ice attack. "Shit!"

"Calm down!" I insisted. "It's still standing, look, see; all it needs is one decent hit on that gyrados and it will fall like rain."

"Gold still has another pokemon as well." Morty added.

"That's right. Togekiss." I pouted slightly, upset with Gold for not using the beautiful bird in this battle. Sure it wasn't any great type advantage over his dragons but it was still strong…

"I—I can't handle this stress!" Silver fidgeted madly before turning his face up and yelling at the screen. "Come on Gold!"

As if on command the screen erupted in an array of stunning yellow light. Buttery like sunshine and cutting out the power from within the room. We heard a news reported yelp, the sound of sparks flying as the live broadcast was blasted out of service. Everyone in the room inclined forward, Silver clutching me with all his limbs waiting in disbelief as silence fell upon the waiting room. We held our breaths, waiting, urging forward until the sound of static curled back out of the microphones and someone righted the camera man. Silver trembled from beside me as the screen went from black to fuzzy to finally on.

The screen was first pointed at Lance, who stood mouth parted slightly to reveal his disbelief, and then at the great beast that lay slain before him. Electricity still sizzled through its sky blue scales, throwing colors in the reflection of the golden surfaces throughout the dragons arena. Still, there was nothing but silence, as the cameras focused back on the champion. Clair rushed forward at this, shoving her way behind me and resting her boobs on my head trying to see the screen better—I was too pleased to care. A wonderful grin spread across my face, soundless, in awe. I squeezed Silver's hand gently, watching as the dragon champion—the master that had tried so hard to guide us for so long—bowed his head to the new conqueror.

Gold. A lavish dark horse standing abroad, shoulders back and clothes dirty from ash and smoke from previous battles. The cameras turned to him, revealing his reaction as he knew he had won, and initially dropping to his knees—not in weakness, but in honor for once. A lump rose in my throat as Silver erupted into a helpless torrent of sobbing and laughing—Gold also cried. He cried like a baby, covering his face as that Ampharos teetered forward, stumbling into the trainer's arms and crying out in pure utter glee. If pokemon had the abilities to cry like humans I knew that it would be hysterical right now. So utterly happy for its win that there were no words to describe it.

Gold rebounded then, yanking the belt from his waist and throwing out each of five more pokeballs to allow the rest of his faithful companions to share in this glory. Flashes were going off them, voices louder and stronger and congratulating the new champion of Johto as he struggled to his feet, weak with disbelief and accomplishment. From the first time I met Gold until now I had never seen him look so humble.

"Gold Hibiki! Tell us how you feel!" A reporter howled to the trainer as he rubbed the Ampharos on the head gently. It clung to his leg, limp beside the clutching and being dragged along with Gold's shallow steps. The trainer smeared a dirty hand across his sweaty forehead, ignoring the reporters direct question and snatching the microphone himself. He turned, taking the main camera in his empty hand and getting face to face with the lens.

"Sh—shit Johto." He trembled into the camera, eyes alight and watery with happiness. He let go of the lens in knowing that it was now steady on his face front. He took a terrible step back, nearly tripping over Amphy and falling into Ty, who stood tall and blowing embers of happiness from his nostrils. Gold stuttered, holding the microphone. "Shit." He repeated, digging through his pants pocket. "Sorry Mom, I—I can't stop—cussing." He ran a hand through his hair, smiling sheepishly.

"Gold! TELL THE REGIO—

"Fuck!" The trainer plucked something from his pocket, still focusing on the main camera which he placed before him. "Silver…"

The redhead jerked from beside me, blinking away his tears and chewing his thumb nail gracelessly as his boyfriend, lover, and best friend from the screen talked directly to him.

"Silver…" Gold laughed weakly, sniffling and wiping away fresh tears from his handsome face. "Shit Silver—gonna embarrass you—kay ready? Here I go." He pushed the mic into the reporters hand again and smacked his empty hand back into the camera, slowly drawing it down as he slipped—to my astonishment—onto one knee.

"Silver Giovanni…" Gold murmured too softly to be heard through the television—but I could read his lips and know that's what he said. "Shit—

He blinked away, looking stupid and flushing with embarrassment because he was so un-savvy that this was impossible for him.

"Fucking marry me dammit!" he held his palm out to the camera as offering. There was no box, but nestled into the tan skin of his palm was the most precise, perfect engagement ring I had ever seen—far more beautiful than the clunky old fashioned thing my father showed me once, claiming that it was my mother's ring before she died. It had a silver band and a gorgeous, warm honey colored diamond sitting on the head. There were two smaller white diamonds on the side of it as well.

Silver couldn't breathe before me, but I didn't fight it when he ripped himself from my grasp and flew to the slowly awakening dragon lair doors. Huge golden things engraved with dragon bodies of all shapes and sizes. Silver slid through the crack as they swung open, lighting the path to Lance's arena, which no one had been allowed in until now. I was torn between watching the screen to see when the cameras would turn to Silver, and wanting to see for myself. In the end it was Morty who yanked me from my spot and hauled me forward towards the doors. If I wasn't mistaking a small laugh escaped his lips as well.

Cameras flashed, reflecting here and there and capturing every moving moment of Silver as he sprinted down the alleyway to the lair, ignoring calls of encouragement and meeting Gold—eyes for eyes—until the trainer stood again, turning to his lover, and catching him in the moment. Silver tore his hands through Gold's hair, laughing and sobbing and kissing him so frantically it hurt just to watch.

"Ye—yes!" the redheaded trainer breathed between gasps. "Yes fucking yes!"

I sniffed, shaking my head slightly to dislodge the tremor rolling through my body. It was almost bittersweet, but surely more sweet because Gold and Silver were made for each other. Just when I thought maybe there was a flash of jealousy in the pit of my stomach Morty took my by the waist, nudging me gently with a look that said "why rush?".

Gold and Silver may need to get married now, since they were wild and crazy kids with no rules now that they were both legal and living in a region that supported gay marriage. I smiled back up at Morty, gently letting my head fall on his shoulder as the rest of the gym leaders, the close-by fans, and Gold's family which had been called, erupted from the doors behind us, flooding the cameras and the reporters.

Glancing up at Morty I sighed, content and peaceful and perfectly happy holding his hand. He bent down and kissed me swiftly.

"I love you." I whispered, knowing that things couldn't possibly get any better.


	77. Chapter 77

~Jasmine~

The beach is my only piece of mind…

So with the waves lapping at my feet I relinquish myself, believing, truly feeling and believing for the first time in a very long time that this was the girl I was meant to be. The salty air I breathed made me feel ialive/i, and that was something I had been lacking for far too long. The waved were chilly but not unbearable, and the nighttime city flickering with electrical problems behind me was a sight to see within itself. Sunnyshore was not always so sunny it seemed, not with its stubborn and ignorant gym leader blowing fuses and making things power out more than often. I didn't mind however, since the blackness of the night made it possible to see the ships coming in the distance—things that the lighthouse once brought Cianwood's small town.

I let it all go however. I was thousands of miles away from Falkner and Morty and the other gym leaders. I was free, I was untouchable, and I was whole. Just for a moment even, if it didn't last it didn't last, but for the moment I was whole. I was Jasmine, steel trainer and former gym leader of Cianwood—before I was chased away by my own hatred.

I had admitted defeat already, I understood what I had done, I believed that from this moment forth I was getting better.

The beach is my only piece of mind…

Frantic medics worked over my limp body, trying to revive it with—ironically—the thing that killed me. Electricity.

The gym leader in this town was ignorant and stubborn, and he had been determined to dethatch a power line from a pole just off the ledge of a rocky cliff nearby. I watched and felt, letting the sand suck against my bare feet as the thing came tumbling down in a whir of flames. The black night sky lit up, the power line went down, and me—the one girl that dare have her feet out in the ocean during this time of night—was electrocuted to death.

But as I said… the beach is my only piece of mind.

The medics worked over my anorexic and fried corpse as my toes played in the sand, feeling the sea waves lapping at me. I did not try to communicate with them, or reach the body that still furiously refused to move, but rather enjoyed the scene before me. Volkner—the gym leader—was wrapped in a blanket with some larger and stronger looking male at his side—his flame red afro bobbing when he walked around. I sighed, my body breezy and lost feeling, but not bad.

What had been bad was the point two seconds that I had endured electrocution far beyond any pain I had ever experience before in my life. I would take rape ten thousand times over again before that misery even once. Of course that's physical though—not even electrocution felt as bad as the guilt that still lingered in my mind.

I had killed, I had abandoned, I had lied, I had done so many things that I was not proud of….

The one thing though… the one thing I was proud of was the fact that I had run so far that I actually felt happy—if only a moment. I had reached this shoreline and stood in the water with the lapping salty waves at my feet and stared into the distance knowing that I was a free woman, and knowing that this was my fresh start. I had smiled, just a fraction of a smile, but a smile none the less.

And then karma caught up to me.

Bitter sweet karma.

I watched the medics carry my corpse away into the ambulance—however my face was already covered. They couldn't heal me, they couldn't fix me, they couldn't bring me back.

But at least I was here.

On the beach…

With my only piece of mind.

…..

~Morty~

The day may have been long, but it was surely the most life changing day I had ever experienced. Seeing Gold defeat Lance (now only formerly known as Mr. Kiss my ass) was remarkable and breathtaking and made me realize just how precious this world we lived in was. Lance was stability, he never changed, and yet he was capable of this being able to shatter so simply. He was the perfect example of life and death, flourishing and downfall, the climax and the descend. It was beautiful.

And then that proposal… I was no hopeless romantic but even I had to admit it was pretty heartwarming. Gold and Silver were almost too perfect for each other, in the same sense that Falkner and I were also each other's better half. We may bicker and argue now and again, and things may escalate to sex too quickly, but it was that that made us the couple we were.

I hugged the bird trainer tightly, breathing into his sleeping form as sweet silence finally came in this small gym-leader household. Wherever Walter Hayato may be tonight… he wasn't here and he wasn't fussing over us. I was almost concerned with how pleasant this evening had turned out—it just wasn't usual for us. Usually Falkner's homophobic father had some nasty things to say to me, things that would separate us physically, but not emotionally. I was awaiting the snide comments about how gay or perverted I was. It was even a bit expected considering I had his son in my arms now, even though I didn't have any true desire to do anything nasty tonight.

It was actually hard to imagine that this was the same hot, steamy room that Falkner had devoted himself to me in for the first time so long ago, just before his father had separated us for the longest amount of time. The man had driven a hard line in the sand that night, and I had never been so alone for the weeks that had followed. All of which I imagined horrible things happening to Falkner and horrible fate floating my way while the previous bird trainer sat mocking us for our decisions—our love.

Falkner was not your usual gay; he was very proud and often stubborn about stupid things. He loved his birds just as much (and sometimes it even felt like more) as me, and he devoted himself in all directions to them. He was kind and brave and admirable with a dashing smile that could make even the strongest of hearts melt. I loved every aspect of him, and everything that set him apart from the rest of the people I had come to know in my short lifetime so far.

Falkner had been there for me, without even knowing it he had shown me a sense of importance in the gym leaders union, and later on with more valuable skills like helping him "break" unbreakable birds. I had saved his life physically and he had saved mine mentally in return. The shallow, heartless man I was before this boy entered my life was not the man I wanted to be. Falkner was the change for the better in my world. I couldn't imagine life without him.

I was nearly asleep, thinking about how perfect things were and just how damn happy I was for the first time in my life. The months that I had known Falkner were probably the most significant months I had ever been through, making me hope that in the future I would only endure many, many more to come. They winked by in a flash and left me breathless when I thought about it, since we had almost known each other over six months now. It felt like nothing—a mere second at the most.

He stirred, breaking me out of the moment I tried to salvage, moaning softly and turning over to face me. It wasn't normal for Falkner to move so much when he slept—which brought me to believe that he was actually awake. I massaged his hip tenderly.

"Mmm… Morty what's wrong?" he blinked up at me, barely noticeable under the harsh moonlight coming in through the window.

"Nothing." I nuzzled him softly. "You're the one that woke up."

He took a deep, ungraceful breath and pushed himself up, his head swimming in sleepiness as if he was still slightly dreaming. "Something feels different…"

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" I whispered, tugging in his shoulder slightly, trying to bring him back down beneath the covers. There was nothing I loved more than the way his hot skin felt against mine on a chilly, borderline spring night. I could smell a faint trace of honey suckle drifting from his freshly washed hair, and his skin was soft as the sun was easy on him the last few days.

Grunted softly, disagreeing with my motion and sitting upright, he glanced around the room as if he were looking for something. "Something's wrong, Morty." He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned, flipping the blankets off and slipping out of bed and into a pair of sweats that lay on the floor.

"Where are you going?" I followed him, trying not to groan in frustration. Here I was trying to bask in his splendor and glory after a long day, and he had some strange feeling that something was wrong. I grimaced; nothing was wrong, everything was perfect.

"I'm just going to check on the birds…" He said softly in the dark before the sound of his bedroom doorknob squealed to life—I kept telling him to get that thing fixed but he wasn't bothered by it.

I walked after him, wearing a near identical pair of sweats and heading off the chill that ran up my bare chest and made my nipples perk. "What is this, some kind of sixth sense?" I wondered, catching up with him in the living room and walking swiftly to the back door at his side.

"I guess…" He reached up to grip the string on the curtain, slipping it back smoothly and then reaching down to unlock the door. It was then that I realized just what he was feeling, since I could suddenly feel it ten times stronger and more prudent than I remembered. The silence that so clearly rang out before was interrupted by the sound of Falkner, gasping, losing his breath as if he had taken a hard jab to the gut. His face went white before me, and with a flash he reached for the old locks, horrified at what he saw.

"Oh... no… No!" Falkner through open the back door, stumbling onto the patio with his bare feet and then out into the grass beneath the huge blooming oak tree.

Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by the dancing of violet petals and cotton weed in the wind was the serene body of none other than Mama Bird. Graying feathers ruffled ever so slightly in the wind while her closed eyes held no strain. Her slender and smooth beak was shut with delicacy, the pale skin around her eyelids looking nearly purple under the moon. I stood back, unsure of myself, completely in awe that I had not seen this coming, or rather felt it when it happened.

When had it happened anyways?

My mind replayed the moment we got back to Falkner's house earlier this evening, after our long day at the Indigo Plateau and having mild drinks with the gym leaders and Gold and Silver. Falkner had gone straight to this lovely old Pidgeot, taken her delicate face in his hands and told her how much fun he had tonight. He had told her simply "I'm so happy." And that was the end of it.

The last thing he had said to his mother before she passed away…

But she had also looked so happy…

"iMorty…/i" A rough and familiar voice sounded from beside me as I stared down at Falkner who stroked his mothers peaceful face with his fingers. Many birds sat in the trees from above—Pride who watched over the sanctuary faithfully, Jake who was beside the pond and shaking with grief, Lego who had stopped her song in replacement for a solemn silence, and Zephyr… who I now realized was beneath Mama Bird's limp wing, curled up with his beady eyes full of sadness as Falkner bent over, crystal clear tears swimming in his eyes.

I didn't know what to do…

"iMorty… /i" Walter Hayato spoke again, softer this time. "iYou will take care of my son…?i/"

I had to turn then, as tears leaked over the edge of my own eyes and onto the damp grass below my feet. Standing in full honor the previous gym leader, the greatest bird trainer that ever lived was before me. His translucent body glowing slightly in the moonlight, his eyes reflecting dull stars as a noctowl breathed over his shoulder, sharp eyed and wise with its master. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think straight… all I knew was that Walter Hayato was somehow, touched or moved or completely baffled by this incident, so much that he was now accepting me.

I nodded.

Of course I'll take care of your son…

A feather light touch crept its way into my heart as Walter moved then, shoulders back and chest stuck out like the brilliant birds before him—creatures so naturally respectable and praiseworthy that it was in their bodily structure. Falkner had told me once before, that it was his father who said birds always kept their chest out—even when things were bad.

I stared after the man who had caused me so much trouble in the last months while I had known his son, and I said nothing. This was the moment I had been waiting for right? So why did it feel as if I had lost something much greater…?

iThank you…/i

The vaporous voice chilled me to the bone as the apparition turned his back and left, sporting what appeared to be a pair of brilliant charcoal wings, wreathing around the great man and scattering the violet petals and cottonweed. All breath was knocked right out of me, stolen from my chest as his son whimpered just beyond me.

"Rest in peace…" I whispered so quietly that not even the sharp ears of the birds nearby could hear me.

I turned, face soaked in involuntary tears as I realized just what my emotions were doing to me. This was not the way things were supposed to turn out—but at the same time they were. This sanctuary, this home, this life that I was living with Falkner was something so powerful I couldn't quite grasp it… and I had never realized until now just how much faith and love I had put into being here as well. I realized that it was not just Falkner I had fallen in love with, but it was the whole thing. The honor, the family, the birds themselves. These feathers for Falkner were much more than just birds and traditions—they were everything.

A tiny, strangled laugh reached my ears as I turned back to the man I loved more than anything else in this world, bowed before his beloved Mama Bird with a helpless grin on his face. He knew as well as I did that she had only left this world in knowing that her son was happy. I covered my mouth in order to stop the thwarting noise I made with such high emotions running through my veins. Mama Bird had been waiting for this for a long time—the day she could go peacefully knowing that her son was truly at ease.

I stared across the yard of violet petals and birds that had crept forward uneasily to bask in the glory of their passive elder. My eyes searched, moving with the wind and the pollen in the night until they rested upon a brilliant star-filled ghost—so much brighter than the ones I had seen before.

Mama Bird stretched her long, luxurious wings, showing the rippling muscle that once was her prime. And the sleek shine of her back and tail feathers. She flapped once, throwing her head into the wind and casting me a long look of appreciation. I realized that she had always loved me like she loved Falkner and her other son: Zephyr, who so helplessly sat curled up in Falkner's arms, trying to cope. My heart swelled with mercy—this pain was nothing of the pain I had seen in ghosts before. This pain was far deeper embedded into my chest. I knew I would never reach it.

Falkner choked on another laugh, glancing back up at me with sparkling aqua eyes. "S—S—she went… P-peacefully"

Gently I knelt at Falkner's side, reaching out to him and pulling his face into the crook of my shoulder so he could cry on me. That's what I was here for—that's what we all were here for.

"Shhh… Sweetheart." I croaked as Mama Bird's ghosts wrapped us in an unfelt blanket of feathers. Falkner clutched me dearly, murmuring things I couldn't quite understand as bird after bird after bird flocked into us, wrapping their wings in a great huddle around the precious corpse of the Pidgeot.

"Sweetheart, it's ok." I promised. "She's still here… Ok? I'm here…"

He nodded, pulling his wet face away from me again and looking up at the starry silhouette that was wrapped in pale violet petals. "I know…" he whispered, meeting his deceased mother's eyes.

"Everything is going to be ok…"


End file.
